A Sordid Kind of Thing
by PhantomDaae1981
Summary: An angsty, multi-chapter prequel to and retelling of Jesus Christ Superstar, based on the 2000 film remake starring Jerome Pradon as Judas. Alternating viewpoints, but mainly Judas’ POV. Jesus/Judas, Jesus/Mary, Judas/Annas. Contains slash! Complete!
1. Chapter 1: A Worldly Man and Wise

"_**A Sordid Kind of Thing"**_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Jesus Christ Superstar, _nor do I own the Bible. I am not _too_ concerned with historical inaccuracies, because I'm basing this story on a musical, and also for other reasons which will soon become quite obvious...

**Author's Note and Warning: **This story contains slash, suicide, murder, angst, sexual content, and profanity. _This story describes same-sex relationships between biblical persons! _I do not believe these people were _historically _gay; instead, I am basing this fanfiction on the 2000 film remake of _Jesus Christ Superstar _(because Jerome Pradon is made of awesome, and there is undeniable sexual tension in JCS 2000). Flames will be ignored, but any other comments are welcome and encouraged!

_**Chapter One: "A Worldly Man, and Wise."**_

_**~Judas~**_

We Iscariots were money-hungry. For generations, our male family members had been financial advisors to the Jewish high priests. Honest or corrupt, we didn't care. There were always priests, and we wanted guaranteed high wages.

So, I didn't think twice when my appointment as chief financial advisor as a young man coincided with Rome's occupation of Israel.

Of course, like everyone, I knew that our current high priests were eager to jump into the pocket of the newly appointed Roman governor, Pontius Pilate. But I did not share the outrage of my fellow Jews. And _they _would not share the wealth I hoped to acquire as a shrewd businessman.

And if I had to sell out to Rome? Well, I could manage. Besides, there was something oddly appealing about the muscular young governor Rome had sent to us, although I couldn't dare to speak of this attraction aloud...

* * *

One afternoon, while balancing the financial records, I quickly noticed an unbelievable error. The numbers in the books were significantly higher than the silver coins locked in the vault.

This was not good. My employers would surely suspect _me, _as I was the only layperson with access to the vault. My name, my reputation, would be ruined. Yes, the Iscariots were greedy and selfish, but we were not thieves.

I'd be arrested...

If they sent me to King Herod, he'd likely have me executed on a lark. Or he and his "boys" would sodomize me and then release me naked to the shameful eyes of the crowds. If they sent me to Pilate, I'd have a proper trial, but the Roman governor had become notorious for his brutality. If I could not prove my innocence (and I _couldn't, _of course), I'd be tortured until my body became unrecognizable.

I had always been rather proud of my body... I did not want Pilate and his goons scarring my skin and breaking my bones. It was bad enough that I was losing my hair!

* * *

"I must say, Judas... I'm not sure _what _to say, actually. You and I _both _know what will happen when..._ If... _Caiaphas finds out about this indiscrepency."

Annas was the youngest priest, and he truly relished his newfound power. His voice was rather shrill, and I found him to be quite unnerving.

"Yes, Annas... I realize Caiaphas will send me to the authorities, but I give my word to you, I am _not _responsible for the lost money. I have been a loyal servant here for ten years... I am pleased with my wages; I would not betray your trust."

Annas leered at me, clearly loving every moment of my groveling.

"Ten years... Yes, I understand you have served us well, and you've received _handsome _compensation. Yet, still... Thirty years old, secure employment, adequate wealth... But no wife..."

Uncomfortable, I averted my eyes form his suspicious gaze.

It was true, of course. There was no reasonable explanation for my bachelorhood.

"I hear that you don't even solicit whores," Annas continued.

I wasn't sure how to respond. I knew what Annas was implying, and I needed a quick defense.

"I assure you, Annas, I am a man in every sense of the word."

He smiled at me.

"Oh, I don't doubt _that, _Judas. Not in the slightest... Perhaps I could put in a word to Caiaphas. Tell me: Would you prefer to face Herod or Pilate, if the choice were all yours?"

Was Annas insane? What sort of question was this? The thought of disfiguring torture, unpleasant as it was, was still preferable to the thought of rape or execution!

"Given the choice, I'd choose Pilate..."

"_Really? _But have you not heard? _Herod_ routinely _buggers_ the suspects we send him. Especially the _handsome _ones. You'd be released with your life. Perhaps a bit _sore_, but in all the _right_ places."

My God... What could I say to all this? I had not anticipated _any _of it, not even from the megalomaniacal Annas.

I had no chance to respond, because Annas was still going at it.

"Oh, but there again, _Pilate _likes the whip. Perhaps _you _do, too? I wouldn't have guessed you to have _that _proclivity... But, of course, I can appreciate the temptation. After all, Pilate is quite the package, isn't he? The metal breastplate, the size of his... _boots..."_

Measuring my words carefully, I responded to Annas:

"Annas. I'm not sure what you want me to say... I realize I'm going to be arrested on suspicion of theft from the high priests. I know how serious the charge is, and although I _am _innocent, I cannot _prove _it. Do you mean to add a charge of suspected homosexuality?"

"Ah..." Annas grinned. "You are difficult to lead. I'm honestly amazed at the bewilderment on your face. Have you truly spent thirty years denying yourself on the basis of a scriptural edict? You certainly have more willpower than _I, _Iscariot..."

_Impossible!_

"But... You are a high priest! Caiaphas chose you as his right-hand man!" I whispered.

"Caiaphas knows about me," Annas said with a dismissive hand gesture. "He is not _like _me, but we have no secrets. But _you, _Judas... _You _are like me. I knew it at once. I thought you saw it in _me, _as well, but I soon realized I'd have to help you along..."

He got up from his chair and moved toward me. His hands moved sensuously against his priestly robe. Stunned, I remained seated.

It was only a moment, and then Annas stood before me. Even in the loose black robe, I was quite aware of what he'd deliberately positioned in front of my face.

"What do you want of me?" My voice trembled.

"Prove yourself. _I _know you didn't steal that money. But, one word from me, and Caiaphas will have you arrested. Pilate will _break _you. And he's taken a liking to crucifixion, you know, if Caiaphas recommends it. And if you're sent to Herod? _Ha! _He and his boys won't be _nearly _so careful with your virgin ass as _I _would be."

I was inside out, upside down...

Part of me, _much _of me, wanted to accept Annas' offer. But I _couldn't. _I'd resisted temptation for _so long... _I had known my own nature for many years now, but I also knew the shame that would befall me if I ever acted on my desires.

_I was Judas Iscariot, and I would conduct myself with dignity!_

"No. I won't do this, Annas. Step away from me. Please."

And then, _pain!_

Annas grabbed me by my hair, turned my head so I had no choice but to look up into his cold, hard eyes.

"_Pleasure me, you worthless coward."_

There was no turning back from this moment... I had been found out, and all dignity was, by necessity, lost. There was no longer any point in resisting what Annas demanded, what I _myself_ wanted.

Taking in a shaky breath, I clutched his robe and slowly pulled it upward...

* * *

Life as Annas' lover turned out to be quite enjoyable, actually.

I was immune to any unpleasantries among the temple staff. Annas was in a position of power, second only to Caiaphas, and I was now under his protection. My wages were increased, my access to privileged information was widened, and I could have underlings dismissed on a whim. I had never even dreamt of such wealth, such power.

This was all nothing, of course, compared to the fact that I was, at long last, enjoying the carnal aspects of life.

Annas was something of a sadist, and although I would never consider myself a masochist, I found myself enjoying the somewhat violent attention. I _liked _it when Annas pulled my hair every time I took him into my mouth, because it meant he desired me. I _liked _it when he left me bruised and feeling broken after a particularly rough coupling, because it meant our passion for each other was _real. _

We never kissed, of course.

It was never a matter of love.

* * *

Sentimentality had always disgusted me. What was the _purpose _of something that had no monetary value, something that could not bring about the ecstasy of agony?

Love. Charity. Kindness. The greater good. These were the most pathetic of concerns, worthy only of the most unthinking among us. These were the silly emotions of _women. _And spending three wealthy years kneeling before Annas had only served to further convince me of the idiocy of humanitarianism.

So, it shouldn't have mattered when I first encountered the man from Nazareth. And, in all honestly, I suspect it _wouldn't _have mattered, had he not been so beautiful.

Simple clothing, nothing to hint at any sort of dominance... Blonde curls, slightly matted with sweat... And a face written over with such naive kindness, he might as well have been a child.

When I turned to look at Annas beside me, revulsion was written all over his face.

"Another _Jew _trying to save Israel," he spat with disgust. "They make me want to vomit. They _know_ they're not the promised messiah; they just want to be _martyrs, _like that imbecile John the Baptist. If you're suicidal, put the noose 'round your neck; don't bother _me. _I have better things to do!"

He started to walk on, while I hung behind. It had always bemused me to hear Annas speak of Jews with such disdain, as if he had forgotten that he himself was not only a Jew, but a Jewish high priest, at that!

This morning, however, I was not bemused. _I was captivated._ And it had nothing to do with what I had just done to Annas beneath the altar at the temple.

The lovely blonde from Nazareth locked his eyes on me.

"You, there! In the fine leather jacket! I notice you stop to listen, while your priestly friend continues on his way. Even _you, _a man clearly drawn in by wealth and all its trappings, can enter the Kingdom. If only you'd _listen, _if only you'd _see, _all that's around you. If only you'd acknowledge the suffering, do your part to alleviate it. Even a man such as you would not be lost to God. I say to you, my brothers, _nobody _is lost to God. Not even the greatest sinner among us."

Was he calling _me _the greatest sinner?

I should have been outraged. Instead, I felt a deep shame, which came from some unknown place deep inside of me.

"_Judas!" _Annas barked, some ways ahead of me. "Come here this instant! Do not poison your mind with that rubbish! We have things to do!"

I instinctively began to follow Annas, but my eyes were on the man from Nazareth. His eyes were smiling at me.

"Indeed. _We _have things to do, as well. You must choose, my wealthy friend, which things matter to you. Wealth? Or helping the poor? Perhaps giving up that which you do not need, in order to help your fellow man?"

_Why was I trembling?_

"I only call to you because I can hear _you _calling to _me..." _The intensity of his words frightened me.

"_Now, _Judas! Or, I swear it, I shall dismiss you from the staff!" I could hear Annas shrieking, but I could no longer see him.

I only saw the man from Nazareth, and his sweet blue eyes, which held promises that were still a mystery to me.

_Promises I couldn't dare to ignore. _

I never walked alongside Annas again.

* * *

Within the first week of following Jesus of Nazareth, I had given up all of my money, all of my fine possessions. I only kept my black leather jacket. Jesus told me I was being vain, and he was entirely correct.

But I had never claimed to be without weakness...

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Chapter Two will be posted soon!_


	2. Chapter 2: Good Old Judas

"_A Sordid Kind of Thing"_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Jesus Christ Superstar, _nor do I own the Bible. I am not _too_ concerned with historical inaccuracies, because I'm basing this story on a musical, and also for other reasons that will soon become quite obvious...

**Author's Note and Warning: **This story contains slash, suicide, murder, angst, sexual content, and profanity. _This story describes same-sex relationships between biblical persons! _I do not believe these people were _historically _gay; instead, I am basing this fanfiction on the 2000 film remake of _Jesus Christ Superstar _(because Jerome Pradon is made of awesome, and there is undeniable sexual tension in JCS 2000). Flames will be ignored, but any other comments are welcome and encouraged!

_**Chapter Two: "Good Old Judas."**_

_**~Jesus~**_

I suppose we were a rather predictable little group in the beginning. The deeply religious son of a carpenter, preaching to the crowds, with only two permanent "disciples" traveling with me.

There was Peter, an even-tempered fisherman. He was a born peacemaker, so it was natural that he should be drawn to my message. And then, Simon, who was something of a political zealot. He troubled me, because he was quite effective at agitating unrest and violence among the conquered Israelites. But he had a good heart, and I knew I could not turn him away when he asked to join me.

I had only been teaching for a short time when Judas Iscariot joined us.

I'm not sure what drew him to me, to be honest. I had heard of him before... My disciples said he was a man of no scruples, an uncharitable moneygrubber, completely untroubled by the suffering and oppression around him. He was also widely believed to be a homosexual; but, more than that, he was rumored to regularly engage in sex acts with none other than Annas himself.

I had never considered homosexuality to be a sin, not in the slightest. Personally, I felt quite capable of developing strong bonds with _anyone, _regardless of gender. However, I knew that _celibacy_ was my calling, and I would also have to require pure lives of anyone who chose to be directly involved in my ministry.

In fact, I had to communicate this to Simon and Peter early on. Simon had often been intimate with other men, and Peter had been intimate with women. I explained to them that God's love was for everyone, regardless of orientation, and that there was nothing inherently wrong with sexual behavior within the context of a committed relationship. However, for _us, _it was necessary to give _everything _over to God. We could not become distracted by sexual relationships.

Close friendships, physical affection, that was one thing. But sexual intercourse was a completely different animal.

Simon and Peter accepted this without question.

But would Judas?

Upon joining us, he had eagerly given all of his money and riches to the poor. He remained quite vain, however. This troubled me... If he could not give up his vanity, would he also struggle with giving up sexual behaviors? He had not yet complained... But I felt it might only be a matter of time.

I did not want to lose Judas. He was by far the most intelligent among us, and his conversion was certainly the most extreme, compared to Simon's and Peter's.

And his loyalty to me was truly remarkable. When I spoke, he looked at me with such admiration, truly listening to every word. I knew his admiration for me ran very deep.

I admired him, too. He _understood_ me, while Simon and Peter were full of confusion. Judas and I were able to converse for hours on matters of theology, society, and philosophy.

But I knew that our relationship would always have one necessary physical limitation. And I prayed, once that conversation inevitably arose, that Judas would understand.

* * *

_**~Judas~**_

New.

This was all so new to me. How could something so new also be so familiar?

There was no rational explanation for my sudden turnaround, no logical reason why I suddenly cared for the poor, why I suddenly cared about God's justice.

But Jesus spoke of these things, and I did not just listen; I _heard. _

I would not say I _blindly_ followed him... When I wanted to know the justification behind certain things, I _asked; _Peter the Bore and Simon the Idiot simply _accepted. _They didn't _need _to know Why.

* * *

Jesus had put me in charge of handling the donations. It was up to me to decide the best way to distribute money and goods to the poor, and how much of the donations we needed to keep for ourselves, in order to survive. It only seemed natural that this was _my_ responsibility, considering my former occupation. Just as it seemed natural, due to _their _personalities, that Simon's job was preparing handouts and encouraging people to come listen to Jesus speak, and Peter's job was managing the ever-growing group of followers who had given up everything to travel with us.

Although Peter, Simon, and I were hardly what anyone would call friends, we did work well together. For a year, at least...

* * *

One evening, after we'd provided supper to a group of lepers, Simon pulled me aside.

"Judas, I need to talk to you. It's no secret how I feel about Rome. And it's no secret that you used to work for them."

"I did not work for Rome," I cut him off. "I worked for the high priests."

"Is there a difference?" Simon laughed. "Here's the thing. You're obviously very loyal to Jesus. But how are we supposed to trust you, considering your past? You could have a hidden agenda; you could be a spy."

"First of all, the priests aren't interested in Jesus. They're only concerned with rabble-rousers, people whose megalomania rivals their own. They're out to crush the messiah wannabes; they don't trouble themselves with teachers. And, if I'm not mistaken, _your _past is riddled with indiscretions, as well. Are you not the zealot?"

Simon considered this for a moment.

"Perhaps... But even the zealots care for the Jewish people. They just express it differently than Jesus does. The zealots' agenda _is _Jesus' agenda... Perhaps you are not a _spy, _then; but I am still not convinced that you haven't got a hidden agenda."

"And what is it, then? What do you think I'm after?" I demanded.

"_Jesus himself." _Simon drew his words out slowly. "You're a homosexual, after all..."

I roared with laughter.

"Have you looked in the mirror lately, Simon?"

"You touch him too much!" He shouted.

I felt myself flush.

"He _encourages _it..." I stammered. "For _all_ of us..."

"He's never going to fuck you. You know that, don't you? Affection is not sex. Brotherhood is not love. Has he talked to you about it yet? Ask him. You'll see..."

Simon strutted away from me, pausing once to glance back at me, triumph written all over his face.

He had no idea what he was talking about, of course... Did he?

After all, my relationship with Jesus was nothing like anyone else's; my feelings for him were like nothing I'd ever felt before. Yes, things were moving (unbearably!) slowly, but wasn't that just a testament to the depth of what was developing between us? Surely, Jesus felt the same.

I would have to talk to him about it... It would be awkward, of course, but I could no longer avoid what had obviously become the proverbial elephant in the room.

* * *

I found Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane. It was his favorite place to pray.

"Jesus..."

He turned around, smiled gently, and squeezed my shoulder.

"Judas. You look troubled. Is something wrong?"

I looked at the ground. How could it be that a mere man could reduce me to this? Jesus held far more power over me than Annas ever did.

"Being with you has changed me..." I began slowly. "I am a better person because of you."

"It was always in you," Jesus whispered. "You just needed someone to show you your full potential. And, I've been meaning to tell you, I could never have gotten so far without you. So much suffering has been alleviated because of you. And we've been able to sustain many more disciples because of your financial expertise. I couldn't do any of it without you, my friend."

He pulled me into a warm embrace, and my heart seemed to fall into the pit of my stomach. _Did Jesus feel what I felt? _Simon's words had filled me with doubt.

I pulled away from Jesus' embrace.

"I need to talk to you... You're right; I _am_ troubled. I'm sure you've heard about Annas and me, what we did during the last three years of my employment with the high priests. Surely, someone must have told you..."

Jesus nodded.

"Yes. But none of that matters. You're with _me _now, not Annas. Any sin you have committed has been forgiven, I assure you."

I sighed. Didn't he understand? My former "sins" were not my concern right now.

"You're right. I'm with _you _now..." I took a deep breath, and the words came pouring out of their own accord. "But I need to know what exactly that _means, _Jesus. Being _with _you..."

I saw Jesus' shoulders tense, and his eyes filled with something that looked like fear, but not surprise. As if he had simultaneously expected and dreaded this moment. My mouth went dry, and I wanted nothing more than to swallow everything I had just said.

"Poor Judas..." Jesus sighed. "Please forgive me if I seem to talk down to you, but despite your intelligence, I fear your experiences may make this difficult to understand. And you _need _to understand what I'm saying right now... Okay?"

I nodded.

Jesus smiled. That innocent, beautiful smile, always tearing me in two...

"You are my closest friend, my _truest _friend, Judas. Nobody understands me the way that you do; no one ever will. And I love you, as I've never loved anybody before. But love can exist without giving into lust. Do you understand?"

Again, I nodded, fear welling up in my throat.

"So, we can embrace. We can sit with each other, touch each other," Jesus explained patiently. "But that is all. That is all it will _ever_ be. God calls me to a life of celibacy, as he does _all_ of my _closest_ followers, including you. We can be affectionate together, as much as we desire. But we cannot share that ultimate closeness that others may experience... God calls _us_ to something different, something _greater. _Doyou understand?"

"But," I began hesitantly, "I am closer to you than your other disciples..."

"_Yes!" _Jesus exclaimed. "Of course, you are! You are closest to me; you are my beloved. But there is more than one way to love, more than one path. And I _do _love you. Of course, I love you, Judas."

I could not return the words, because I knew that the word "love" meant something different to Jesus than it did to me.

He could speak freely of love, for he loved with a lack of intensity I could not imagine. _My _love was wrought with a passion I now knew was unspeakable.

If I told him the extent of my feelings, I would lose him. And that was unthinkable.

"I, I understand, Jesus... I will do as you ask... Celibacy... Yes."

Jesus smiled warmly. Was he truly so easily fooled?

"Good! You make me very happy, Judas. I am so glad you understand. Because I have amazing news to tell you. You're the first I'm telling. It has been revealed to me that I must choose apostles. My apostles will be much more than mere disciples. _Anyone _can be a disciple, a follower, a believer. But my apostles are the _most _special_. Historically so, even..._ They will be the _closest _to me. Without my apostles, I am nothing. And _you _are my first. You are my first chosen one! The first out of twelve. Please, Judas... Tell me: Will you accept?"

The look of hopeful expectancy on Jesus' face told me that I should be ecstatic about this, but it was more than I could manage. I was not an actor.

"Of course, I will accept, Jesus. Thank you..." I managed.

Jesus hugged me close, but I could feel the tension, the hesitancy in his embrace.

Something had changed, and he knew it, too.

I should have stayed silent.

_Damn you, Simon the Moronic Zealot, for prompting me into action!_

* * *

**Author's Note: **Chapter Three will be posted soon!


	3. Chapter 3: Where We All Soon Will Be

"_**A Sordid Kind of Thing"**_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Jesus Christ Superstar, _nor do I own the Bible. I am not _too_ concerned with historical inaccuracies, because I'm basing this story on a musical, and also for other reasons that will soon become quite obvious...

**Author's Note and Warning: **This story contains slash, suicide, murder, angst, sexual content, and profanity. _This story describes same-sex relationships between biblical persons! _I do not believe these people were _historically _gay; instead, I am basing this fanfiction on the 2000 film remake of _Jesus Christ Superstar _(because Jerome Pradon is made of awesome, and there is undeniable sexual tension in JCS 2000). Flames will be ignored, but any other comments are welcome and encouraged!

_**Chapter Three: "Where We All Soon Will Be."**_

_**~Mary Magdalene~**_

Before meeting Jesus, a man was a cock and a handful of coins.

After meeting Jesus, a man could have a heart, could have a _soul._

_**~Judas~**_

I hated her immediately.

She was one of a handful of prostitutes who had recently joined us. For some reason, Jesus had decided to deliberately reach out to these so-called _women. _

I had never been a fan of the weaker sex, not just because I had no interest in them sexually. I disliked their sentimentality, their inability to intellectualize.

Of course, I certainly saw the value in being _charitable_ to women. They were fragile, unable to look after themselves. When Jesus announced that we were going to begin ministering to women, I thought it was a wonderful idea. We could give money, food, and clothing to widows and spinsters. We could provide a sympathetic ear to women who had lost children, perhaps. Or we could set up safe houses for women whose husbands were violent.

And we did all of those things. But Jesus wanted to go a step further. He actually wanted to permit women to _join _us! He wanted to encourage women to become active disciples, even going so far as inviting them to travel with us, to _live _with us.

Particularly, prostitutes.

Obviously, I had to doubt Jesus' motivations. Like many of his own followers, Jesus had a special attraction to men, even if he did forbid sexual activity. However, unlike me, Jesus also was attracted to women. Homosexuality, heterosexuality... None of that mattered to Jesus. People were people, in his eyes; he was bisexual.

Perhaps he was tired of being surrounded by men. Perhaps he was tired of _me. _

Despite myself, I could see that Mary Magdalene was beautiful. Cafe-au-lait skin, caramel-colored hair, dainty body... How could I possibly compete? I was olive-toned, yet pale; my perpetually receding hairline had nearly reached the point of no return, and my musculature was somewhat compact. When I argued with Jesus, Mary reassured him. When I cynically rolled my eyes at him, Mary gazed at him in wondering agreement.

Truth be told, much of what attracted me to Jesus was his innocence, his goodness. And, clearly, he saw those _same _qualities in Mary Magdalene; of course, he would be attracted to her!

But Jesus was naive. He did not realize that Mary, as a prostitute, knew exactly how to deceive him, how to give him just what he wanted. She was not sweet, trusting, nor caring; she did not understand Jesus' message. Mary was a _whore, _full of lust and financial greed. Perhaps _Jesus _could not see this, but _I _could.

And Jesus kept insisting that prostitutes needed us more than anyone! He was perpetually stuck on the idea that whores were _people, _no different from anyone else. He saw this new ministry toward loose women as just another way to reach out to the hated outcasts of society. But he fooled no one but himself. It was obvious: Jesus wanted women around because he was _attracted _to them.

Particularly, Mary Magdalene.

* * *

Today, I felt like vomiting.

Jesus was _supposed _to be giving a lecture about the danger of pursuing wealth. But the moment Jesus stood, the crowd made it obvious that they wanted something different.

"Messiah! Is it true you are the promised one? Is it true you are the son of God?"

_Messiah?_

Jesus smiled.

"Mmm. So word is getting out. Indeed, it is true that I am the son of God... And my father has revealed to me that I must teach all of you, as many of you as possible, about the wonders of his kingdom, and what waits for you if you follow my message."

_What? _

Jesus could not respond to the "Messiah" title; he could not claim to be the son of God! What the hell was he thinking? Did he _want _to attract the attention of the high priests? Did he _want _to be arrested for blasphemy?

Mary Magdalene rose to her feet.

"Teacher... What about those of us who are following your message, yet who have lived... questionable lives... thus far?"

"Sweet, sweet Mary... _Anyone _can be part of my father's kingdom. Lepers, feeble-minded, prostitutes, homosexuals... You are _all _welcome."

_No! _He wouldn't _dare_ group someone like _me _together with someone like the Magdalene whore!

But he had done it...

This was too much. It was bad _enough_ inviting the prostitutes to become disciples. Now, Jesus had truly gone too far.

* * *

_**~Mary Magdalene~**_

I was washing Jesus' robes in the stream in the garden of Gethsemane, while he silently prayed to his father. I hummed to myself, enjoying the warm breeze on my shoulders, and the almost domestic nature of my task. Then, I heard a sound I had come to dread.

_Click, click, click _on the stones of the pathway: The pointed-toe boots of Judas Iscariot.

_Damn it! _Couldn't he leave Jesus alone for awhile? Judas was constantly interrupting my private time with Jesus, and I was beyond tired of it. Everyone knew that Judas was homosexual, and everyone knew he was closer to Jesus than the rest of us could ever hope to be. But I suspected that nobody, least of all _Jesus, _realized the intensity of Judas' feelings.

But _I _saw it. I saw it in Judas' eyes, and in the way he touched Jesus... He often touched Jesus' shoulder with a hand equally tender and firm. To be honest, it frightened me.

I knelt down in the willows, hoping that Judas wouldn't realize that I was in the garden, hoping that Jesus wouldn't realize I was within earshot. I wanted to hear their conversation.

"Jesus. We need to talk about the little _sermon _you gave yesterday. Why the hell would you tell the crowd that you're the son of God?"

"I would never tell them something that's not true. You know that I would never mislead the flock."

"_The flock?" _Judas sounded incredulous. "So, you're now interested in _sheep, _rather than students? _Slaves, _rather than equals? I won't take part in this!"

"We are _all _children of God, Judas," Jesus said, infinitely calm. "Most of them, however, _are _followers. And there is nothing wrong with that. Nobody is a slave."

"Ah," Judas snickered. "Then, what do you call that _slut _who washes your feet before you address your 'followers?'"

_I _was the one who washed Jesus' feet before his sermons... How _dare _Judas judge me!

I prayed that Jesus would defend me, and my prayer was answered.

"_Do not speak that way about Mary. _I am warning you. Yes, there is sin in her past. But how easily you forget that _you _were once a new convert, as well."

I heard the sound of wood breaking. Peering through the willows, I saw that Judas had knocked over a bench.

"_God damn you, Jesus of Nazareth! _If you lump me together with that _woman _one more time, it will be _you _instead of this bloody bench!"

"Violence does not become you." Jesus' voice was quiet, uneasy. "Stop pretending to be the tough guy, and say what you _feel. _Stop pretending Mary has harmed you in some way, and say what you mean."

Judas laughed bitterly.

"You _know _what I _feel, _Jesus. And the bitch _has _harmed me; she is taking you away from me."

There was a tense silence, before Jesus finally spoke, his voice soft.

"Judas, jealousy is a product of _lust... _I don't understand; you and I _love _each other... Love is not lust; we had this conversation nearly two years ago-"

"I don't recall a conversation," Judas interrupted. "I recall you talking down to me, as if I were nothing but an ignorant, savage beast. I recall you speaking of love as if you were born without a prick."

"_Judas!" _Jesus gasped.

"I'm sorry!" Judas sputtered. "But, if _lust_ is not a part of love, then _passion _certainly is."

"Judas, _no! _We _can't. _We _won't!"_

From my hidden place in the willows, I saw Judas grab Jesus by the shoulders, moving close to him, as if to kiss him. Jesus pulled away and stumbled backwards.

"Just a _kiss,_ Jesus?" Judas voice sounded small and pathetic; I almost pitied him.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," Jesus voice trembled. "You are clearly confused right now... We won't kiss; it isn't safe."

Judas wrapped his arms around himself and stared at the ground.

"I've complied with your vow of celibacy for three years... It isn't easy for me, Jesus... Could we... Could we just pretend this conversation never happened? Can we just forget I did this? Forgive me... Please."

"Of course." Jesus smiled, but it was clearly strained. "All is forgiven... Could you leave me to my prayers now?"

"Certainly. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you."

As soon as Judas was gone, I saw Jesus bury his face in his hands.

I wanted to go to him, to comfort him. But I couldn't let him know what I had seen, what I had heard...

* * *

**Author's Note: **Chapter Four will be posted soon!


	4. Chapter 4: Sad Solution I

"_**A Sordid Kind of Thing"**_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Jesus Christ Superstar, _nor do I own the Bible. I am not _too_ concerned with historical inaccuracies, because I'm basing this story on a musical, and also for other reasons that will soon become quite obvious...

**Author's Note and Warning: **This story contains slash, suicide, murder, angst, sexual content, and profanity. _This story describes same-sex relationships between biblical persons! _I do not believe these people were _historically _gay; instead, I am basing this fanfiction on the 2000 film remake of _Jesus Christ Superstar _(because Jerome Pradon is made of awesome, and there is undeniable sexual tension in JCS 2000). Flames will be ignored, but any other comments are welcome and encouraged!

**A Further Warning: **This particular chapter is quite a bit longer than the previous three, mostly because it's the last chapter of the "prequel" section, before I get into the "retelling" chapters. Also, this chapter has a heavy amount of sexual content. It's not _complete _smut, but it's definitely more graphic and pervasive than the sexual content of the previous chapters (or of the chapters which are to follow, as far as that goes).

_**Chapter Four: "Sad Solution I"**_

_**~Judas~**_

_I had to stop! _I had to get myself under control. If I didn't, Jesus would certainly make me leave; he'd have no other choice. Not only would I no longer be an apostle, but I wouldn't even be permitted as a "follower." And, with all this new talk of God, Jesus would probably declare me Damned.

But how could I be calm and docile with everything that was happening around me? Not only were we now in danger of attracting negative attention from Rome, but following Jesus' celibacy requirement was taking its toll on me. Yes, I had denied myself for the first thirty years of my life, but that had been followed by three years of absolute carnal ecstasy with Annas.

And now I actually _loved _a man... And although I had denied myself for his sake for these most _recent_ three years, _I knew what I was missing._

Poor, foolish Jesus... He had _no idea _what we could be sharing together, the physical aspect of passion...

_No! _Jesus was right about one thing: I _did _need to conquer my lust for him. Because, otherwise, I was going to lose him, and I could not bear that.

But _how _could I calm myself? _How _could I behave like a gentleman, when every inch of my body was tense, every single muscle held taut, ready to snap?

Yes, the _tension _was the problem. I needed to let go of the tension.

* * *

On the surface, the Temple may have seemed to be an ironic destination. But I hadn't gone there to _pray; _I was looking for _flesh, _and flesh was in abundance at the Temple. I suppose Annas was to blame for that. At this moment, however, I wanted to thank him.

Boys, boys, everywhere... I did not want _boys. _I wanted a _man. _

No. I wanted _Jesus. _

After awhile, I stumbled across a boy with stringy blonde hair. I feared this was likely the closest I'd find to what I _really _wanted.

"Hello... It's awfully warm in here, don't you think?" I casually began.

"Yeah, I s'pose," he slurred. "I know a place with a cool little pond, though..."

"That sounds lovely. Perhaps you could show me?"

The boy looked me up and down. I put a lot of effort into maintaining my body, so I felt quite confident about the whole thing, until I saw his eyes linger critically on my hair.

"I don't usually do bald guys... You got any opium?"

Resisting the urge to beat the boy to a pulp, I weighed my options. Of course, I didn't have any opium. But it was now clear that the boy was not going to fuck me for _pleasure's_ sake; he wanted me to _pay _him.

I didn't have any money of my own; as an apostle, I'd forsaken it long ago. I _did, _however, have some of the _communal_ money with me, because I was the designated treasurer. I couldn't exchange any of this money for a sordid carnal act with an opium addict. Could I?

"I don't have any opium, but I do have a fair amount of silver..."

* * *

Once we reached the pond, the boy immediately started undressing.

"You can use whichever hole you want, but you have to give me the money first. And I don't kiss tricks. No exceptions. Okay?"

"I have no interest in kissing you," I muttered.

The truth was, I'd never kissed _anybody. _Annas and I performed almost every sexual act imaginable, but we never kissed, because kissing _meant _something. And my recent attempt at kissing Jesus had been disastrous.

I handed the now nude boy 500 pieces of silver, money that was _supposed_ to be used to pay the printer for fliers advertising Jesus' sermons.

Taking off my jacket, I asked: "So, what's your name, then?"

"Sebastian. You?"

"It doesn't matter... Would you mind if I called you a different name, something other than 'Sebastian?'"

He laughed at me, showing a mouth full of rotting teeth.

"Oh, you wanna pretend I'm somebody you know, then? Do I look like him?"

"Your hair is the same color, nothing more."

"I s'pose it doesn't hurt anything. I won't even charge you extra. What's the name?"

"Jesus."

The boy's face turned a sickly gray color. Perhaps he was in withdrawal from his precious opium.

"You're one sick bastard, then, ain't you?" he gasped.

"_Excuse me?"_

"Look, I need the damned money. I'll let you fuck me, but no way in hell are you gonna call me by the messiah's name. Got it?"

I couldn't believe it... This filthy creature, earning money for opium by selling his body at the Temple, not only _knew_ of Jesus, but had also heard the idiotic talk of him being the messiah. This whole thing was getting out of hand...

_What was I doing, anyway? _

I couldn't have sex with this boy. Even if I _didn't _care about my apostolic vow of celibacy, I couldn't be unfaithful to Jesus. Especially not with a stinking opium addict who believed the lies.

"Nevermind, Sebastian. Just forget it. I can't stand the stink coming from you, anyway. Put your clothes on and get out of here."

"Oh, yeah? Well, I ain't giving back the money, so maybe you better think about that again."

"_Keep _the fucking money! Go buy your opium; I'm sure your beloved messiah would approve of that."

"Fuck you, man," he said, snatching up his clothes. "Can't stand my 'stink?' At least _I_ still got my hair."

Once he was gone, I sat down by the pond and cried.

I would have to find another way to release this pent-up tension...

* * *

_**~Jesus~**_

_What do You want me to do about Judas Iscariot, Father? _

No response.

_Why don't You answer me when I pray about Judas, Father? How am I supposed to interpret Your silence? I'm doing everything You ask... I just need to know how to better reach Judas. How do I help him accept how things must be? Why is it so hard for him? I don't have this problem nearly so much with Mary Magdalene... She struggles, I know, but she still manages to accept it._

Nothing.

* * *

Simon was badgering me about the Romans again. I was so very weary of the war-mongering recently taking place in our group.

"Simon, when will you stop with all this? I've told you time and time again, we are not going to stage an uprising against the Romans. Why do you insist upon bothering me with this all of a sudden?"

"Because now we know the _truth _about you, Jesus! At first, you just came across like a _teacher. _But now that you've revealed yourself as Christ the messiah, it's only natural that we should be eager for you to fulfill your destiny!"

"Oh, really?" I laughed. "So, _you _know my destiny, Simon? My Father has revealed it to _you _before revealing it to _me?"_

"Christ, everyone knows, has known for _centuries, _that the messiah would come to save the Chosen People. And we are under Roman occupation now; _you _will be the one to lead us to victory against the Romans! Why are you fighting your destiny, when it's so-"

"Oh, Simon, _stop _for a minute!" I shouted in exasperation. "Does anyone know where Judas is? He has the money for the fliers _you _are supposed to be having printed for tonight, Simon. Well, anyone? Where is Judas?"

As the apostles variously shrugged their shoulders or shook their heads, I noticed Mary Magdalene running into the room. She was a welcome sight: The only one of my followers who hadn't been hounding me about one thing or another. I smiled at her, but she didn't look at me. Instead, she went straight to Peter. He had become quite protective of her lately.

As she whispered something to him, Peter cast a sideways glance at me. Mary started giggling, and Peter stood up, a solemn look on his face.

"Jesus, I believe Judas may be at the pond next door."

* * *

Indeed, I found Judas at the pond. He was standing close to a tree with his back to me. He hadn't seen me entering the adjoining shadowy plaza, so I started to call his name. Then, I noticed something strange about his posture; his hand seemed to be moving near the front of his pants. I assumed he was urinating. I hesitated to say anything to him, because I didn't want to embarrass him.

Many moments passed. Surely, he should be finished by now! But his hand was still moving in front of his pants. Was he ill? Concerned, I took a few steps closer.

Then, Judas turned slightly to lean against the tree. I could see him in profile now, but he still did not notice my presence, because his eyes were closed.

My breath caught in my throat as Judas' activity became obvious. _Impossible! _He _knew _this was forbidden!

His right hand was inside his unfastened pants, making quick stroking motions. As I watched, he lifted his left hand and put a finger into his own mouth, and... _It was obscene!_

I had to stop him, had to say something...

I had certainly been angry with Judas in the past, but _nothing _compared to the anger I felt toward him at this moment. I could hear him moaning, could hear his heavy breathing, even from where I was standing. Suddenly, he stopped sucking on his finger, and the muffled moans turned into a murmured name. _My _name...

"I love you so much, Jesus..."

My anger melted. Obviously, this really _wasn't _mere lust on Judas' part... Still, though, he _knew _that we had to love each other _chastely. _And he wasn't honoring that vow.

I really _did _have to stop him. I couldn't let him continue sinning this way, especially considering the fact that he was thinking about _me _while he degraded his own body.

And, yet... I found myself unable to move from where I was standing.

In spite of myself, I was becoming rather captivated by the scene taking place in front of me. I had always found Judas attractive, but I had always been careful not to pay too much attention to his appearance. It was safer that way, after all.

But _this? This_ was not safe, not in the slightest.

Fortunately, I could not clearly see Judas' genitalia. It was dangerous enough simply seeing the motions his hand was making inside his pants; it was dangerous enough seeing the shape of his manhood through the fabric.

I forced myself to stop looking at his pants, and my eyes traveled to his arms. They were muscular, but not excessively so. Firm, strong...

_I had to stop this! _If I was not going to stop Judas from his self-gratification, I _at least _needed to leave the plaza. It was wrong of me to watch, wrong of me to admire Judas at this moment. I was afraid of the feelings it stirred up inside of me.

I looked at his face. His eyes were still closed, but his eyelids occasionally fluttered. His skin glistened; he seemed to be sweating. When he wasn't forming half-sentences, he bit his lower lip. I couldn't fully understand the intensity of his facial expression, because I had never felt what he was feeling at this moment...

He began to move his hips urgently, and his moaning became louder.

"Yes, Jesus, _yes..."_

I realized what was going to happen very soon, and that realization finally shook me from my disgraceful voyeurism.

I ran toward him before it was too late.

* * *

_**~Judas~**_

"_Judas Iscariot! What do you think you are doing?!? Stop that, at once!"_

Oh, _no..._

I quickly buckled my pants, as my face grew hot with shame.

"I was just... I was just... I couldn't find a toilet, and I drank a lot of wine earlier, and-"

"Do you think I am stupid, Judas? I know very well you weren't urinating. And _you _know very well what your vows are as an apostle. I pray that my Father will forgive your lapse in judgment, and I highly suggest that _you _pray as well."

I looked at Jesus. His jaw was clenched, his eyes hard, his face flushed. I had never seen him so angry. This was a nightmare; surely, he would abandon me after this.

Indeed, he turned to leave.

"I can explain!" I gasped. "_Please, _Jesus, let me explain myself. It's not what you think, I swear to you..."

"Do not swear," he scolded. "You know better than this. _Animals _cannot control themselves. You are an _apostle. _Not only that, you are the _first_ of the Twelve! I chose you for your intellect, for your goodness. I chose _a man, _not an animal. When you have composed yourself into a man again, you may come join the rest of us in the gathering place next door. And don't forget the money for the fliers! We're going to be late paying the printer because of this... I thought I knew you; I thought you were an honest man."

Tears stung my eyes.

"Please, listen to me! I wasn't behaving like an animal, despite what you think! I _was _controlling myself. You don't understand, Jesus."

I tried to grab his arm, but he pulled away.

"_That _is what you call controlling yourself?" Jesus asked incredulously. _"Mary _knows how to control herself. Perhaps I should appoint _her _treasurer from now on, since your carnal appetite is apparently getting in the way of your duties. Now, give me the 500 silver pieces, so I can send Simon to the printer's shop."

With that, all my sadness, fear, and guilt were washed away... Appoint the Magdalene whore as treasurer?

"That's quite a low blow, isn't it, Jesus?" I sneered. "The slut takes my place in _every _capacity, then. Because you're stupid enough to think she doesn't lust after you? That's really hysterical, I must say. For all I care, she can-"

Then, I saw it.

For a split second, I thought my eyes were deceiving me. But no...

_There was a distinct and definite bulge in Jesus' pants. _He was not fully erect, but it was certainly noticeable.

The clenched jaw, the flushed face? That wasn't _anger; _it was the _tension _I knew all too well, the kind of tension that comes from _arousal. _

I looked back up to his face. Now, he looked uneasy, worried. I smiled, because I finally had him exactly where I wanted him.

"Tell me, Jesus... Just exactly how _long_ were you watching me before you decided to come scold me?"

"What are you talking about?" Jesus voice was low.

"I'm talking about your _pants, _Jesus. Did you think I wouldn't notice? Perhaps _you _had better 'compose yourself' into the_ messiah _again before you join your followers next door."

"You look very proud of yourself," Jesus said ruefully. "I have never said that I am not a man. I have a body, like any man. But, unlike you, I have self-control."

"Your little stiffy didn't come out of nowhere, Jesus. That would be _far_ too coincidental. If you're going to come at me the way that you did, calling me an animal, threatening to replace me with your precious little Mary, _shaming_ me for simply trying to relieve the physical discomfort _you _caused... Then, I think my question is only fair. How long did you watch me before you decided to stop me from my fun?"

"Judas, this has to stop. If you are going to be my apostle, _this has to stop. _We can't go on like this. Do you understand? _Please, _my friend... Tell me you understand. Tell me that you will control yourself, at least when you are in my presence. I don't want to lose you, and that's what's happening. _It has to stop." _

He was right, of course... I nodded, swallowing against the lump in my throat.

"Okay," Jesus sighed. "Now, the money for the fliers... Would you like to go with me to pay the printer? Just the two of us... We can join the others later. We can talk more on our way to the printer's shop, if you'd like."

_Fuck!_

"Jesus, I... I don't have the money... I lost it." No, I couldn't lie to him, not now. "I'm sorry; that isn't true... I didn't lose the money. I spent it."

"_Spent _it?" Jesus was incredulous. "On _what?" _

"Something at the Temple." There. That wasn't a lie, technically speaking.

"You _never _go to the Temple, Judas. Why would you have spent money there?"

I wasn't going to get out of this, was I?...

"There are male prostitutes at the Temple..." I told him, my voice shaking.

"_How could you?" _Jesus whispered.

"I _didn't!" _I protested. "I didn't follow through. We came here to this pond, and I gave him the money, but then I sent him away. We never even touched each other. I couldn't do it; I couldn't be unfaithful to you. I sent him away, Jesus. I did the right thing! _That's _why I was touching myself... To make sure I'd never again even _consider _being with anyone who isn't you. I didn't have sex with that boy... _I did the right thing!"_

"You gave our communal money to a male prostitute whom you found at the _Temple, _of all places, and you say that you did the right thing? I don't know what to say to you, Judas... I'm going Gethsemane to pray... Please, leave me alone for awhile, would you? Go next door to the others for now."

The tears returned to my eyes as he walked away.

* * *

I _would_ have been angry when I saw everyone's reaction to my presence, but I was too depressed to muster up the energy for anger.

Laughing, pointing, whispering... I sat down in a corner and tried to ignore them.

Finally, Simon strutted over to me.

"So, did you have a good one, Judas?"

"What are you talking about, Simon?" I asked wearily.

"Well, you know, I hope you were able to finish before Jesus caught you. Then again, you look pretty bummed. Maybe you've got a pretty bad case of the old blue balls now?"

_How on earth did Simon know what Jesus had caught me doing?_

Simon started laughing, as if he had read my mind.

"Yeah, I guess Mary was just passing through the plaza, when she saw you in the shadows near the pond. She was going to go say 'hi,' but then she realized what you were doing. So, she ran in here and told Peter. Coincidentally, Jesus was wondering where the fuck you were, anyway. Peter told him where he could find you, but not what Mary had seen. And, the rest is history, I suppose..."

"_Simon!" _Peter called. "Stop trying to cause trouble, man; I mean it. We're all family here... Judas, we need the money to pay the printer..."

* * *

_**~Jesus~**_

_Why, Father? Why would Judas betray us this way? Is he truly incapable of conquering his lust?_

Silence.

_What am I supposed to do now? I can't turn him away... That would be cruel; he isn't an evil person. He's just... flawed. He honestly thinks he did the right thing; I know how much he loves me, so why does that love lead him to the wrong actions? Please, Father, I need Your guidance now, and You don't answer me!_

The sound of the wind blowing through the trees.

Really, though, I did not need an answer from God. I had answered my own question.

Indeed, Judas loved me. He loved me _too much. _He was becoming increasingly irrational, increasingly unable to control himself. I knew it wasn't his intention, but he was becoming a threat to me, a threat to my _own _vow of chastity, a threat to my ability to fully devote myself to my Calling.

Of course, I would not turn him away, nor would I demote him. He would _always_ be closest to my heart... But it was now abundantly clear that Judas was _incapable _of living up to what I had hoped for him. No amount of talking on my part, no amount of apologies on _his _part, would change that.

Instead, I needed to turn my focus to my _other _disciples. There were so many souls thirsting for God, and it was _my _job to take them there. I could not allow myself to become too distracted. I could not be too emotionally close to someone who drained my energy.

It was time to start distancing myself from Judas Iscariot.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Chapter Five will be posted soon, and it will be the beginning of the "retelling" portion of this story! Thanks so much for reading; please consider leaving a review!


	5. Chapter 5: Poor Old Judas

_**"A Sordid Kind of Thing"**_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Jesus Christ Superstar,_ nor do I own the Bible. I am not _too_ concerned with historical inaccuracies, because I'm basing this story on a musical, and also for other reasons that will soon become quite obvious...

**Author's Note and Warning:** This story contains slash, suicide, murder, angst, sexual content, and profanity. _This story describes same-sex relationships between biblical persons!_ I do not believe these people were _historically _gay; instead, I am basing this fanfiction on the 2000 film remake of _Jesus Christ Superstar_ (because Jerome Pradon is made of awesome, and there is undeniable sexual tension in JCS 2000). Flames will be ignored, but any other comments are welcome and encouraged!

**Chapter Five: "Poor Old Judas"**

_**~Simon Zealotes~**_

_At last, it was happening!_

We were finally going to have a chance at overthrowing the Roman occupation.

Jesus had announced that he was actually _the Messiah, _the son of God!

And I believed him.

But, even if I _didn't, _what mattered was that multitudes _did _believe him.

And, as such, he had the power to help us get rid of those vile Romans!

True, Jesus had, thus far, not seemed too excited about political aspirations. He hadn't even said a damned _word _about Rome. In fact, he actively _discouraged _talk about politics.

I would have to grease the wheel a bit, appeal to his desire for power and admiration.

He _was _the Messiah, after all!

* * *

_**~Mary Magdalene~**_

Things were becoming awkward, uncomfortable.

I had been foolish telling the apostles that I had seen Judas masturbating near the pond. If I had only told _Peter, _I wouldn't have had to worry. He was like an older brother, wise and prudent. But I made the mistake of telling _Simon, _too, and word got to Judas himself that _I _had been responsible for Jesus catching him in the act.

At the time, I thought it was funny. I hadn't thought about the fact that I needed to _live _amongst these people, including Judas. As much as I hated Judas, _Jesus _loved him, and if I wanted Jesus to love _me, _I needed to get along with Judas.

But now that was impossible.

Sometimes, Jesus confided in me about his feelings for Judas. It made me sad, because I feared that Judas had a bond with Jesus that I would never share. But I always listened to Jesus, let him vent his fears and frustrations, as I washed his feet before meals and sermons.

I never said anything bad about Judas in Jesus' presence. But the thoughts in my head were another matter entirely.

All of the _other_ apostles had accepted my friends and me without question. As I've said, Peter was like an older brother to me. And Simon was incredibly fun, even if he _was _a terrible gossip. And all the others were infinitely kind.

But _Judas? _Judas never even _spoke_ to me. Seemingly, he was incapable of anything other than scowling at me. I knew he hated me, and I knew why. He was in love with Jesus, and he considered me to be competition. But was it really _my_ fault if Jesus liked _girls_, as well as boys?

Perhaps if Judas would've expanded his _own _horizons, he could have understood; I knew very well that a few of my female friends found him quite attractive. He wasn't openly flamboyant like Simon; indeed, Judas was rather masculine. But everyone knew what he was; everyone knew whom he wanted: He wanted _Jesus. _

And, yes, I admit: I wanted the same thing. I often dreamed of opening my legs to Jesus, giving myself to him _entirely. _But I knew that Jesus' Father called him to a life of chastity, and I was willing to accept that. It was better to share an emotional connection and physical affection with Jesus, than to share nothing with him at all.

If _Judas_ were wise, he would have realized this, too. But his fixation on the lack of passion was costing him the closeness he _could _have shared with Jesus.

Jesus himself had told me this.

I almost pitied Judas.

* * *

_**~Annas~**_

Things were becoming strange in Israel.

This Jesus of Nazareth actually seemed to be a potential threat.

Really, I should have known. Anyone who could draw that loser Judas Iscariot away from me was obviously a force to be reckoned with. But it took me three years to realize it.

I never should have let Iscariot slip away, at any rate. He was perfectly loyal to us, without question. And, for a man with no previous experience, he was _damned _good in the bedroom. I had never before had such a skillful lover, and I never had such a skillful one afterwards.

But now he was with Jesus Christ. Some Jewish wannabe messiah was enjoying what _I _had once enjoyed

That was the only explanation, of course. I knew Judas well; surely, he didn't care about saving souls and charity. There was some other explanation, something carnal.

_And it infuriated me. _

I had to put an end to it. It wouldn't be difficult. Caiaphas was infinitely paranoid; I only needed to make him fear we were under attack.

It would be even easier than the deception I had used to make Judas kneel before me that first time six years ago.

Oh, I was a magnificent bastard!

* * *

_**~Jesus~**_

My Father was going to reveal something to me soon, something very important. I could feel it... I could feel it in my heart, in my bones...

And, somehow, I knew I wasn't going to be happy about it.

* * *

_**~Judas~**_

Lately, it seemed that Jesus wanted nothing to do with me. Whenever I tried to talk to him, he found some excuse to pull away. He needed to tend to the other apostles. Or he had to hear confession from that whore Mary Magdalene...

I wondered if he enjoyed hearing confession from her... In the past, I had confessed to him about the sex I had enjoyed with Annas, and I suspected that some part of Jesus enjoyed hearing what I had done.

Then again, perhaps not. There was no way of knowing, because Jesus would never have admitted such a thing.

There was only one thing I could be sure of: Jesus' followers were idolizing him more and more, and Jesus seemed to encourage such behavior.

And I was afraid of what would result from such idolatry... I was afraid of what would happen if Jesus drew the attention of Caiaphas and Annas... The high priests were willing to ignore a teacher who spoke of charity, but they would be _eager _to go after a Jew who called himself the Messiah.

If Jesus didn't put a stop to this talk of God, something terrible was bound to happen to him.

It terrified me... But, now that Jesus was practically ignoring me, how could I make him listen to my fears, to my warnings?

* * *

_**~Mary Magdalene~**_

Judas had never _directly _accused me of anything before. But, now, as I was trying to calm Jesus, to make him forget his apostles' questions, Judas was _quite_ direct.

Not only did he say that I didn't fit in with Jesus' teachings, but he _threw me down the stairs!_

After a barely veiled verbal insult, Judas took me by the hand... Bewildered, I followed him to the edge of the courtyard steps. And he _pushed_ me! I stumbled all the way down.

Catching myself with my hands, I looked up at Jesus, expecting him to come rushing to my rescue. Instead, he glowered at Judas for a long moment, before finally helping me up.

Now, I was _really _pissed off. I didn't like Judas anyway, so his violence toward me didn't really change my opinion toward him. But _Jesus_ should have come running to my aid _immediately, _and he _didn't. _It was as if his disagreement with _Judas_ was his primary concern, and _my_ well being was a mere afterthought.

Disgusted, I stormed away.

Judas had come down the steps, too, by this point. As I walked past him, I saw him lick his lips as he leered at me. _Ha! _Surely, he didn't think he was fooling anybody with his make-believe lust. _Everyone_ knew he didn't like women.

Even so, I saw Peter run toward Judas, grabbing him by his collar, threatening to hit him. Peter was _always_ willing to protect my honor, even from a hateful, balding homosexual.

When Jesus finally came to me, leading me back to the other disciples, he leaned in close, whispering to me.

"Judas is very troubled; he is worried about my welfare. Please, be the angel that you are, Mary... Forgive him. He is my friend..."

The feeling of Jesus breath close to my ear was enough to convince me... Somehow, I had to make nice with Judas Iscariot.

* * *

_**~Judas~**_

There _she _was, as always. Comforting him, _holding _him.

Why did Jesus let _Mary_ so close to him, when he kept pulling away from _me? _I had been with him since almost the beginning, certainly much longer than the Magdalene whore had. Hadn't I proven myself loyal? Hadn't I denied myself for his sake? I had never _dared _to touch Jesus the way that _she _did.

_It wasn't fair!_

I was aware of Peter patting me on the shoulder, trying to apologize for nearly punching me in the face a few moments ago. I ignored him. I had no problem with Peter; he was not a threat to my relationship with Jesus.

Standing apart from the others, I watched Mary pull a bottle of ointment from her bag. She began anointing Jesus' feet and caressing his forehead. My heart began to race with jealous anger, but what could I do?

Then, I realized that Mary's ointment, in its green bottle, was the most expensive kind that money could buy. And I remember how Jesus had always chastised _me _for refusing to sell my expensive leather jacket. He had always said I should sell my jacket, and give the money to the poor.

But he said nothing to Mary about the ointment she was using on him, despite the fact that such rare ointment must have cost at least _twice _as much as my leather jacket.

Sweet, hypocritical "messiah..." Indeed, I _did _have a valid reason to interrupt the two little lovebirds.

When I snatched the bottle out of Mary's hands, Jesus looked frustrated and furious that I had stopped Mary's attention to him. Did he not see how he had _contradicted _himself?

Maybe his bisexuality was nothing but a ruse; maybe he only wanted a woman, after all...

I didn't have much time to think about this, because Mary had stood up to face me.

I expected her to bitch at me; after the way I had behaved today, I would have deserved it. Instead, she spoke _kindly, _even going so far as to lay her hand against my face.

Her tentative comforting completely threw me off... Was it really possible? Had I misjudged her?

Perhaps... Because now _Jesus _was the one confronting me, dismissing my concerns for the poor and hungry in the world.

He was completely blinded by his desire for Mary Magdalene.

Did he think of _me _at all?

* * *

_**~Annas~**_

Indeed, it had been quite easy to persuade Caiaphas that Jesus of Nazareth was an imminent threat to Israel. I simply told Caiaphas that I suspected that Jesus was going to incite the crowds to rise up against us, and that Pilate would see _us _crucified, if we didn't put a stop to Jesus' movement.

Only once did Caiaphas ask me if my "feelings for Judas" were clouding my perceptions.

_Feelings? _

_Ha!_

The only emotions I felt toward Judas Iscariot were anger and disgust.

_Nobody _turned his back on Annas the High Priest.

* * *

_**~Jesus~**_

It was a truly joyous day!

We had made our way into Jerusalem, and the crowd greeted me with smiles and praise.

Then, I noticed that Judas stood by himself, looking defeated.

This wasn't what I wanted. I _hated _keeping my distance.

I wanted Judas to confide in me; I wanted things to be how they were before. But, when I approached him, he brushed me aside.

That is, until we heard the crowd ask me to die for them.

Obviously, I was taken aback. And, I could see out of the corner of my eye, so was Mary. Why would these people ask such a thing of me?

I hesitantly cast my eyes toward Judas, to see him staring at me, superiority written all over his face.

"Do you see?" Judas whispered. "What did I _tell _you would happen if you let them think you're the Messiah?"

I turned away from his smug expression, only to see armed guards overtaking the plaza. Nothing good could come of this...

I vainly tried to calm my followers, but they were all too eager to fight against their oppressors. Things quickly became bloody; even Judas looked disturbed by the violence.

Unbelievably, the people won this round. The armed guards were forced to retreat.

Almost immediately, Simon was in my face, trying to feed my ego, insisting that I alone had the power to lead the people in a revolt against Rome. How many times did I have to tell him that I was not interested in such a revolution? What would it take to convince Simon that my mission was far more important than mere politics?

To my disgust, Simon tried to hand me a gun.

_That was it!_

I would show them; I would tell them what glory _really _was...

Then, I heard unfamiliar words pouring from my own mouth. The voice was mine, but the message came directly from my Father.

And, I _knew... _

I _was _going to die for these people...

After I had finished my strange, unwilling outburst, I looked around.

Every single one of my supposedly devoted followers had left me alone, except for one.

Judas Iscariot stood on the balcony above me, gazing down on me with heartbreaking sadness.

But he might as well have been a hundred miles away from me.

I was completely alone with this new revelation...

* * *

_**~Judas~**_

Something told me I shouldn't have let Jesus leave the plaza. He looked lost, confused, and distraught.

But, as much as I wanted to comfort him, I knew he wouldn't want it. Not from _me, _anyway...

I heard a whiny voice behind me. Unfortunately, I immediately knew who he was.

"Judas, Judas, Judas... I really expected much more of you than this... This _silliness. _You were like _me, _remember? What on earth happened?"

Annas laid a hand on my shoulder, and I quickly pulled away.

"I was _never _like you, Annas. I actually _care _about humanity."

Annas laughed.

"You care about money and sex, just the same as I do. You may have fooled the new _Messiah, _but you haven't fooled _me. _You'll _never _fool _me, _Judas..."

Annas leaned in, as if to kiss me. I stumbled away from him.

"Get the fuck away from me!" I spat. "Just, just leave me alone. Leave _all _of us alone. Jesus is no threat to you or the other priests. Leave us in peace."

"Oh, that isn't going to happen, Judas," Annas grinned." "I assure you, Jesus will _not _be left in peace. One way or another, we will get him."

"Why?" I demanded with a touch of fear. "Why go after Jesus? Surely, the priests have more important concerns."

"More important than a _Jew _who thinks he's the son of God? More important than a messianic wannabe with political zealots for followers? _Rome _will never tolerate it, and neither will the High Priests."

"I will talk to him, Annas," I sighed. "I will tell him to tone it down. He will listen to me, I promise you. Just leave us alone, _please."_

"It's too late for all that," Annas said, his tone serious. "We are going to arrest him, somehow. It's only a matter of time. But we need someone on the _inside, _someone to lead us to him in private."

I felt my eyes widen in horror, and the expression on Annas' face became even more smug than before.

"_Help _us, Judas. Help us, and I give you my word we'll make it worth your while. You could have your old job back. You could have your old _lover _back..."

Disgusted, I ran from him.

In the distance, I could hear Annas shouting after me...

"Jesus must be quite the lay! I hope he's worth it!"

And I knew that there was no way any of this could _possibly_ end well.

* * *

_**~Pontius Pilate~**_

I awoke in a cold sweat.

_Why was I having such vivid dreams?_

* * *

**Author's Note: **Chapter Six will be posted soon!

**Special Thank You:**Thank you so much to the people who have reviewed and/or are following "A Sordid Kind of Thing." It means a lot to me, especially considering the fact that this is the first fanfic I've ever written.


	6. Chapter 6: Sad Solution II

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Jesus Christ Superstar, _nor do I own the Bible. I am not _too_ concerned with historical inaccuracies, because I'm basing this story on a musical, and also for other reasons which will soon become quite obvious...

**Author's Note and Warning: **This story contains slash, suicide, murder, angst, sexual content, and profanity. _This story describes same-sex relationships between biblical persons! _I do not believe these people were _historically _gay; instead, I am basing this fanfiction on the 2000 film remake of _Jesus Christ Superstar _(because Jerome Pradon is made of awesome, and there is undeniable sexual tension in JCS 2000). Flames will be ignored, but any other comments are welcome and encouraged!

_**Chapter Six: "Sad Solution II."**_

_**~Jesus~**_

For some depraved reason, I couldn't stop thinking about the day, a couple of months ago, when I had caught Judas touching his body impurely. I couldn't stop thinking about the way he had looked, leaning against that tree. So utterly _tempting, _yet so forbidden to me by my Father.

I also found my thoughts drifting toward Mary. I so enjoyed her massages, the way she touched me, the way she soothed me with her soft voice.

My thoughts today were truly carnal, and completely unacceptable. I suppose, perhaps, I was rebelling against my Father. I was a typical son, after all!

But a typical son would not have an invisible Father, who asked him to save all of mankind, who asked him to _die _in order to do so.

Judas' father expected him to continue making the Iscariot name wealthy, and Mary's father put her on the street to make money selling her body.

But only _my _Father expected His child to _die._

_It wasn't fair!_

Oh, I would rebel... Just as Judas and Mary had rebelled against _their _fathers' wishes.

I remembered Judas telling me that there were prostitutes at the temple.

Oh, Father... You just _watch _me rebel.

* * *

_**~Mary Magdalene~**_

I hadn't seen Jesus in a few hours... Something deep inside me told me that something was very wrong, that Jesus was distressed. I wasn't exactly surprised to feel a psychic connection to him; our relationship was deeper than anything I'd ever experienced before, and I knew our bond ran very deep.

But what could be troubling him to such an extent?

_**~Caiaphas~**_

Annas had been warning me for quite some time that Jesus of Nazareth could be a potential threat to us, and by extension, to Rome. At first, I suspected he was just jealous that Judas Iscariot had abandoned not only his job, but also his place kneeling before Annas, in order to follow Jesus.

Annas had denied it, of course. He had often stated he was incapable of love, and I believed him. He certainly didn't love _Judas. _But Annas was possessive, and for whatever reason, he was very pleased with Judas. So, I am certain that Annas was not pleased to lose Judas as a lover.

Annas suspected, as did I, that Judas was only with Jesus for carnal purposes. What other reason could there possibly be? Judas was the most money-hungry man I'd ever encountered. He was not dishonest, nor was he a thief, but money was his lover.

And, eventually, so was Annas.

I'm sure that Judas must have greatly loved his sexual interactions, because Annas was in high demand as a lover to homosexuals.

As for me, I didn't care, as long as I didn't have to _see. _

Of course, Judas couldn't have joined Jesus for _financial _reasons. It was common knowledge that Jesus required his closest followers to give up all material possessions in order to follow him.

So, there must be some _sexual _reason why Judas was following Jesus. Because, as I firmly believed, Judas was no different than Annas; he was simply more subtle.

At any rate, it was soon evident that Annas' concerns about Jesus were _not _just a result of jealousy due to Judas abandoning him for Jesus.

Everything that Jesus spoke of was anti-Rome, anti-power, and anti-_us. _

It was not a risk I was willing to take.

We had arranged the execution of John the Baptist a few years ago. And, now, we would arrange the execution of Jesus of Nazareth.

But we needed someone on the _inside. _

Someone like Judas Iscariot.

* * *

_**~Jesus~**_

I hadn't been to the temple in years... I had been too busy with my own personal ministry.

It turned out that Judas was right... At the temple, I found prostitutes, both male and female.

But, honestly it was even _worse _than that.

I could understand _carnal _temptations, but the temptations of _financial _greed were something else altogether.

I was utterly disgusted by what I witnessed in the temple... People gambling, people selling strange, high-priced items...

Such concerns could in no way be concerned an aspect of love.

People at the temple were hounding me... Not just the various prostitutes which some part of me was seeking, but also the vile people who sought _nothing_ other than monetary gain.

Never in my life had I known such disgust!

My Father disapproved of showing anger, but how could I help myself?

Stumbling out of the temple, I found myself amongst a colony of lepers...

_**~Mary Magdalene~**_

When I finally found Jesus, he was a wreck. Obviously, something had greatly upset him, but I knew better than to ask for details.

Instead, I embraced him, sang softly, comforted him...

* * *

_**~Judas~**_

Ah, yes... I should have known.

I had briefly thought that perhaps I had misjudged Mary Magdalene. Perhaps, after all, she was a good and caring woman.

What a fool I was, to have even trusted her for a moment!

Because, here she was, preying on Jesus. Here she was, leaning over him while he slept.

Here she was, _kissing _him.

Oh, I'd make her pay for this.

* * *

_**~Mary Magdalene~**_

_Damnit! _

It was innocent; it really was.

But, of course, I'm sure it didn't look innocent to Judas.

He had caught me kissing Jesus on the cheek while he slept.

Jesus had awakened, and looked practically dejected to find Judas so close by. I suppose Jesus knew that Judas would disapprove of how close I was, and Judas was a born troublemaker.

Jesus had stood up, but I remained seated on the ground, suspended somewhere between pride and shame.

Judas walked around, so that he stood just over me. I was uncomfortably aware of his crotch near my face. Then, he knelt next to me. I could feel his breath close to my face.

When his tongue lightly grazed my cheek, my insides turned to jelly. I _hated _Judas, for the most part, yet my body was betraying me.

I instinctively raised my hand to slap Judas, but he caught me by the wrist, stopping me.

I turned to look at Jesus, but it was clear that he would not defend me. He was too busy sadly glaring at Judas. I might as well have never existed.

Disgusted, I ran away.

* * *

_**~Judas~**_

_How dare Jesus dismiss me! _

He wouldn't even let me explain myself, wouldn't even let me warn him about the Magdalene whore's obvious intentions.

Instead, he waived me off with a hand gesture, and went to follow Mary.

Oh, he'd regret this. Yes, indeed.

* * *

I couldn't stop thinking about what Annas had said to me.

He had vowed to me that, eventually, Jesus would be arrested, whether I helped the high priests or not.

There was much to think about. I had to weigh my options very carefully.

If the priests were going to arrest Jesus regardless, I needed to make sure my relationship with Jesus would not be jeapordized.

It was obviously Jesus' _followers _who were bringing him down, especially that bitch Mary Magdalene. They all believed that Jesus was the son of God, when he was really just a kind-hearted teacher.

And Jesus himself had become caught up in all this talk of God.

But, I was certain, if Jesus was arrested, his sheep-like followers would move onto some other "messiah." Then, Jesus would see the truth. And, as soon as he admitted reality to the high priests, he would be released.

Once the priests released Jesus, he'd see that everyone had abandoned him. He'd have no followers whatsoever. Peter, Simon, Mary_, everyone... _They would all move on, and Jesus would be completely alone.

But _I _would still be there, waiting for him.

We could start over, _just Jesus and me, _brand new!

Yet, to make all of this happen, I would have to betray him.

He'd understand, though.

He'd probably never even know that I was the one who had turned him in.

The priests were going to arrest him anyway, eventually... Annas had told me so. It really was best that _I _orchestrate the whole affair, so that Jesus would finally see the truth.

And, perhaps, we'd finally be together.

I ran toward the high priests' residence, before I had time to change my mind.

I really _was _making the right decision.

So, why did I feel so guilty?

When Annas pulled my hair, when Caiaphas sounded so sure of himself, when the bag of coins was dropped into my hands...

_I was utterly powerless._

And completely miserable.

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Chapter Seven will be posted soon!_


	7. Chapter 7: Ideals Die

_**Chapter Seven: "Ideals Die."**_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Jesus Christ Superstar, _nor do I own the Bible. I am not _too_ concerned with historical inaccuracies, because I'm basing this story on a musical, and also for other reasons which will soon become quite obvious...

**Author's Note and Warning: **This story contains slash, suicide, murder, angst, sexual content, and profanity. _This story describes same-sex relationships between biblical persons! _I do not believe these people were _historically _gay; instead, I am basing this fanfiction on the 2000 film remake of _Jesus Christ Superstar _(because Jerome Pradon is made of awesome, and there is undeniable sexual tension in JCS 2000). Flames will be ignored, but any other comments are welcome and encouraged!

_**~Judas~**_

I stumbled through the town square, unable to believe what I had done. I passed the Temple... That damned opium addict was there, waiting for a customer. What had his name been? Silas? No. Sebastian. I made my way over to him, an unexpected impulse entering my troubled mind.

"_You," _he spat with disgust. "Forget it, baldy."

"Oh, you _got _your money. What right have you to insult me?"

He smirked.

"Fair enough. But that don't mean I got to _fuck_ you, neither. Anyway, I _stink, _remember?"

"How could I forget" I muttered. "I don't want your cock, Sebastian."

"Then, _what?" _He demanded._ "_I got money to make"

Was I really certain of this? Indeed, I was.

"I want you to take me to an opium den."

His face lit up, but his voice was cautious.

"You don't look like no opium fiend, mister."

"I'm not," I sighed. "I've never smoked opium in my life. But, right now, I need to-"

"Escape," Sebastian finished my sentence.

* * *

My head was heavy, and my neck was a matchstick.

When I closed my eyes, Jesus held me in his arms. There were no disciples, and there was no God; nothing in the whole of creation could keep Jesus and me apart. It was the most wonderful bliss I'd ever known.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Sebastian's laughing face spinning around me. I tried to lift my arm to strike him, but he didn't react. I realized that I was, for all intents and purposes, paralyzed.

I driffted off again. With my eyes closed, I could lift my hand to stroke Jesus' lovely curls. I pressed my lips against his soft mouth, not caring that it was only a hallucination.

* * *

I spent a few hours in and out of consciousness. When I awoke, Sebastian was gone, and so was most of my money. Luckily, I still had the leather sack of coins from the priests. The blood money...

I stumbled out of the opium den... The setting sun told me that I needed to get back to our central location very soon, because Jesus had scheduled a special supper for the evening.

I numbly made my way to the apostles' rooms, where Peter grabbed me by the shoulders.

"You're stumbling all over the place, man! What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing; I just... I just..."

"I'm not an idiot, Judas; I know that smell. Since when do you use opium?"

"I, I _don't. _Just a one-time thing, I promise. Please don't tell Jesus. _Please. _I've never had any quarrel with you, Peter. Just this one thing is all I'm asking..."

"Look, I know you're troubled. And I know why. I don't want to make things any harder for you, Judas; my lips are sealed. But there's ashes all over you; you need to change shirts, before someone _else _sees, somebody who won't be so understanding. Do you have another shirt?"

"Yes, a black one... In the closet, inside there..."

"Okay. You wait over _there," _Peter ordered. "Sit down; pull yourself together. I'll go get your shirt."

I sat down against the exterior wall. Eventually, Peter returned with my shirt and a bottle of wine.

"Here you go, Judas. Change shirts. And drink _this; _if you look drunk, the others won't suspect you've been smoking anything you shouldn't have. Half of the other apostles are drunk already, anyway. Drink some wine, and you'll blend right in."

I peeled off my red fitted shirt, and pulled on my black one. As I put my leather jacket back on, I looked at Peter and saw the sympathy in his eyes. I wondered how he would react when Jesus was arrested, and if he would suspect that I was the one who had betrayed his beloved "messiah."

"I _love_ Jesus, Peter... Maybe in a way that I shouldn't," I whispered, in spite of myself.

"I know," he said, softly. "I don't judge you for it. I can't pretend to understand, but I couldn't very well be an apostle if I didn't accept the fact that God made some people homosexual. Who you love is your own business; just because _I _love women doesn't mean I hate a man because he loves other men."

"But I'm not just talking any other man, Peter," I stupidly persisted. "I'm talking about loving _Jesus. _And I'm talking about a love that isn't as pure as what he preaches... I don't buy into the whole celibacy thing. I _want _him. My love isn't what it's _supposed _to be."

"It's a struggle, I know... But you have to be strong. Even if it turns out that God doesn't call you to be celibate, like the rest of us, He certainly calls _Jesus _to be celibate. Maybe there's someone _else_ for you..."

"_No!" _I insisted, a bit too loudly. "You don't understand... I am _in love _with him... There's nobody else..."

"You sound like Mary," Peter whispered.

"Oh, that fucking _whore," _I spat. "Everyone knows you want her. Why don't you fuck her, make her forget about Jesus?"

Peter scowled.

"I don't want Mary Magdalene, Judas. She's like a sister to me. So, I won't have anyone insulting her. I fucking _mean _it, man. She's not a whore; she doesn't sell herself anymore. She loves Jesus just the same, just as _much, _as you do. But she's willing to tolerate his conditions, and I guess you _can't. _That's why I pity you. I wish it wasn't so hard for you."

"You're trying to tell me that a woman whose heart is filled with nothing but _lust _is able to tolerate chaste love, while _I, _a man who truly _loves_ Jesus, can't accept what is taught?" I asked incredulously.

"Just relax," Peter sighed. "Drink some wine. I don't want anyone to know you've been smoking opium, and I know _you _don't want anyone to know, either. Get yourself a bit drunk, to mask it."

Obeying, I leaned back against the wall and gulped down some wine. As much as I hated to admit it, Peter was truly the voice of reason right now.

He started to walk back into the building, but not before turning back to look at me, a sad look upon his face.

"I know you really do love him, man" he sighed. "I wish you weren't suffering like this."

With that, Peter went inside the building. I was left outside, my head spinning, as I gulped down the wine he had given me.

Yet, somehow, I knew I would never be numb enough.

* * *

_**~Jesus~**_

I sat on a chair, just inside the Jerusalem building we had recently rented. Mary Magdalene knelt before me with a bowl of soapy water. She was washing my feet, in anticipation of what I had realized would be my last supper.

Initially, I had invited Mary to join me during this last supper with my closest followers. After all, Mary was certainly one of my most precious!

However, my father had revealed to me that Peter was going to deny even _knowing_ me after I was arrested. And, as I knew that Mary considered Peter to be like a brother to her, I decided to instruct Mary _not _to attend my last supper. I did not want Mary to see me confront Peter, as I knew I would have to.

Mary had reluctantly agreed. Now, as she washed my feet, I found myself pensive. I did not want to die. And I did not want my gentle Peter to deny me.

Then, I knew.

_This is not all. _

_Judas. _

_Judas, Judas, Judas._

My Father had told me, and though I wanted to ignore His voice, I knew it always spoke the truth.

It was _Judas Iscariot _who would turn me in to the authorities.

My most beloved apostle, the man I loved more than words could ever express, had _betrayed_ me.

Judas would hand me over, and I would die.

As Mary soaked my feet, I felt the tears flood my eyes.

_Why Judas?_

Why, Judas?

* * *

_**~Mary Magdalene~**_

Sadness and I were well acquainted. Yet, somehow, as I ran the sponge across the soles of Jesus' feet, I felt a sadness which was quite new to me.

Yes, I had felt sympathy for Jesus before. But this was different. _This _sympathy was completely void of any selfishness. I no longer gloated, no longer felt superior, in the knowledge that Jesus trusted only me in his darkest moments.

Looking up at him, I saw a tear trickle down his smooth cheek.

"What is it, Jesus? Talk to me..."

"Betrayal, Mary," he sadly smiled. "Betrayal..."

His eyes drifted off into the distance.

"Are you talking about Peter? Forgive me for questioning you, but I really don't think he could ever do what you've told me..."

"Not Peter," Jesus interrupted. _"Judas. _Judas has done something far worse than Peter could even fathom."

Yes, I could believe that Judaswas capable of terrible things. But I highly doubted he was capable of _betraying _Jesus in any way. Judas loved Jesus, just the same as _I _did.

Jesus eyes were sad, but they were also full of certainty. And there was a certain resignation written across his face.

It scared me...

* * *

_**~Judas~**_

I didn't want to go inside.

As long as I was sitting outside, gulping down more wine, I would have not have to face Jesus, all the while hiding what I had done. As long as I sat here, I would not have to return to the priests; I would not have to lead them to Jesus, as he prayed in the garden. As long as I avoided the inevitable, I would not have to see the look of shock, the look of confusion, the look of _betrayal _on Jesus face when he realized that _I _was the one who had led the authorities to him.

I had convinced myself that Jesus would understand, eventually. But _would_ he?

I had prayed to Jesus' "father" that Jesus would understand I was doing this for _him, _to protecthim: "Please, God... Even if Jesus is initially angry, let him realize I've been right all along, when he sees that everyone else forgets about him while he is imprisoned, when _I _am the one standing by him, waiting for him."

But, now, as the opium haze lifted from my eyes, and the dull buzz of wine roared in my ears, I was all out of prayers.

* * *

_Fuck!_

The others were starting to wander up to the door from the garden, smiling, arm-in-arm. Bottles in hand, they walked past me and entered the building. I would not be able to avoid this last supper any longer.

There was Simon, Matthew, James, and all the rest... They wore identical shit-eating smiles. How was it possible that Jesus had included _me _in this group of apostles? I was nothing like these men; and yet, I had been the first.

I noticed that Mary, the unofficial "thirteenth apostle," was not present. I would've expected Jesus to have included her in this special supper. I was glad to see her gone; perhaps Jesus had realized the truth about her. Somehow, though, I doubted that. There had to be some other reason for her absence. I didn't really care; Mary Magdalene was the least of my worries.

I gulped down the last of my wine before standing up and carefully staggering into the building. Peter cast a concerned glance at me as I sat down at the far end of the table, and I wished that I had made more of an effort to be his friend these past few years. But it mattered little now.

Then, Jesus entered from the alcove. I had never seen him look so distressed... Something was wrong, and the uneasy feeling in my stomach increased tenfold.

* * *

Breaking bread and pouring wine at a Passover supper were certainly to be expected.

But the egomanical nature of Jesus' "blessing" was another matter altogether.

First, Jesus had made me wary by speaking of his friends who would bring about some sort of downfall. How could I help but to feel paranoid?

But, then, Jesus referred to the bread as his body, and the wine as his blood. I saw the looks of disgust and bemusement across the other apostles' faces.

I had long suspected that Jesus' power was going to his head, and this served only to validate my belief: Jesus had truly lost his mind...

Then, he was angry. He was speaking of his _death. _The uneasiness in my soul became even greater, but I remained silent, eyes downcast.

But, to my absolute horror, Jesus began prophesizing. He predicted that one of us would deny him, and another one of us would betray him. As he made his way around the table, I looked up at him, fearful. But he did not look at me.

After a few moments, and _more _than a few protestations, Jesus stated that it was _Peter_ who would deny him. Surely, that was impossible! Peter was unflinchingly devoted to Jesus!

But, then, Jesus referred once more to the fact that "one" of us was going to betray him. It was so clear, so obvious. _Jesus knew. _He had _already _exposed Peter. And, although he had not mentioned me by name, it was clear that he knew it was _me _who would betray him.

I would not give him the chance to expose me. I refused to give him the satisfaction.

Disgusted and fearful, I stood up.

* * *

He knew; of _course, _he knew. And, so, I confronted him.

And, to my horror, he confronted me in return.

I tried to make him understand, to explain to him why I had done what I did. But he didn't care.

I spoke of my hatred for him, but he knew better. He mocked me, used my very name as a symbol of betrayal and lies.

And he was right, of course. Although, I'd never admit it.

To the end, I would pretend that my feelings for Jesus were nothing but hatred, nothing but disgust.

It didn't matter that the other apostles knew no better. The fact was, _Jesus _knew the truth.

No matter how I protested, no matter how the others did not understand, Jesus argued against me.

I wanted _so much _to explain myself, to tell Jesus that I loved him, to explain what was bound to happen. I wanted to tell him that, were it not for my betrayal, something awful was bound to happen, something I could not control. I wanted to make him understand, that had I not joined with the high priests, he would be utterly lost.

Surely, there must be _some way _to make him understand that I really _was _doing this for _him! _Surely, there was some way to show him that everyone _else _was bound to deny him, to leave him behind. There had to be _some _way to make him see that _I _would be the only one who stood by him throughout all of this madness.

Except, there _wasn't. _

The others were clearly distraught...

Instead of being Jesus' hero, I seemed to be the only one _against _him at this juncture.

I was the only one fighting him, the only one who didn't believe he was truly the son of God.

It was truly too late.

I fell at Jesus' feet, wrapped my arms around his legs. I pleaded, told him how things had gotten so out of hand, but I don't think he was listening.

And I cried. The sobs came from deep inside me, and the solitude within my soul threatened to kill me.

And I knew damned well that it would.

I stumbled away, knowing I had to go meet the high priests, to lead them to Jesus. Because, at least the priests would _pretend _to listen. At least Annas and Caiaphas would _pretend _to care about why I was betraying the only man I had ever truly loved.

* * *

_**~Jesus~**_

It's not so much that I didn't want to die.

Much more, I didn't want _Judas _to be the one to betray me. I didn't want Judas to be the one to turn me in, the one to bring about my death.

Because, somehow, I knew that Judas the Murderer would bring about Judas the Suicidal.

And I really did _love _Judas. I did not want him to become suicidal on my account,.

And, yet, in that kiss, I felt the truth. I knew Judas' feelings. I knew the depth of his longing, and I knew precisely what he had sacrificed for so long.

But it was too late. It was too late for me to respond. It was too late for me to turn my back on my calling.

My Father had spoken, and there was precious little I could do. I could acknowledge Judas' love for me, but that was all.

I wanted _so much _to tell him that I _knew, _that I understood. But I _couldn't. _I had no choice but to obey my Father.

And so, while feeling Judas' desperate embrace, I told him that it was over.

The tears I saw in his eyes destroyed me, but I was already dead, so it didn't really matter.

* * *

_**~Judas~**_

Annas and the others were predictably unsympathetic when I went to them.

I had gone to them, as promised, and that was all they cared about.

Truth be told, I was amazed by the detached look in Annas' eyes. But he was doing his job, a job void of emotion. He had never _loved _me, so what did it matter?

To my amazement, the other apostles were asleep.

How could they sleep, knowing what Jesus had predicted?

Such fools...

I slowly moved toward Jesus, ignoring the tears upon my cheeks and the lump deep in my throat.

He had always forbidden me to kiss him, and I knew that this would be my only chance.

I felt his soft lips against mine, surprisingly responsive.

And, then, I knew that it was all over.

Despite the arms I felt around me, despite the _love_ in Jesus' embrace, it all ended, right there.

I was no longer delusional enough to believe that Jesus and I would be together at the end of all this.

* * *

_**~Jesus~**_

Clearly, Judas wanted to explain himself. But, the fact was, I didn't need any sort of explanation. I opened my arms, and he quickly fell into my embrace. His arms were tight around me, and I never wanted him to let go.

One of my hands found its way into his thinning hair, while the other was wrapped around his body. I could feel Judas' tears soaking through my robe, could feel his arms entwined around my body.

I never wanted to let go of him. I wanted this moment to last forever.

But I knew what was to come.

I felt the soldiers pulling us apart. I saw Judas tossed against the wall, as if his pathetic betrayal meant nothing.

I saw Peter, acting like an idiot, try to defend me.

But there was no point.

Looking past the other apostles, deep into Judas' eyes, I saw the end of the world.

How could I possibly make him see that it _had _to end this way? How could I show him that it really was not his fault?

I knew that my Father was telling me that it had to be this way, but it didn't seem fair. Why should Judas suffer endless damnation, without forgiveness, when it was _his _action which had set the world's salvation in motion?

I knew that I would understand, someday soon. But, would _Judas _ever understand? Somehow, I knew that the world around us would _not _understand, and that was the cause of my fear.

But what could I do?

For so long, I had worried that Judas' feelings for me were nothing but lust.

But, now, in his kiss, in his desperate embrace. I knew that my fears were quite mistaken.

The sad remnants of Judas' love only served to prove the end of my world, the end of my life.

Nobody would understand what was to come.

Least of all, me.

**Author's Note: **Chapter Eight will be posted soon! Please review, and if you like this story, please subscribe for update notification!


	8. Chapter 8: Sad Solution III

_**Chapter Eight: "Sad Solution III"**_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Jesus Christ Superstar, _nor do I own the Bible. I am not _too_ concerned with historical inaccuracies, because I'm basing this story on a musical, and also for other reasons that will soon become quite obvious...

**Author's Note and Warning: **This story contains slash, suicide, murder, angst, sexual content, and profanity. _This story describes same-sex relationships between biblical persons! _I do not believe these people were _historically _gay; instead, I am basing this fanfiction on the 2000 film remake of _Jesus Christ Superstar _(because Jerome Pradon is made of awesome, and there is undeniable sexual tension in JCS 2000). Flames will be ignored, but any other comments are welcome and encouraged!

_**~Judas~**_

Some part of me was vaguely aware of the bruise quickly forming on my left shoulder, the result of some faceless guard throwing me against the wall. But my mind was focused on a much deeper pain.

Jesus' surprisingly comforting embrace had been replaced by rough hands and a concrete wall. But it was the absence of Jesus' arms, which was destroying me from the inside out.

To my surprise, the apostles tried to protect him from the guards. But, apparently resigned to his arrest, Jesus gently berated them. Blank faced, he let the guards drag him away.

What was I supposed to do now? Obviously, my original delusions about the outcome of this arrest were far from my mind. I had seen the truth of my idiotic betrayal, the truth of my unrepressed jealousy, hours ago at supper. Yet, I would see my original plans through, all the same; I could not leave Jesus, not now.

Not ever.

* * *

_**~Annas~**_

This was all highly amusing, of course, just like I knew it would be. Christ's mindless followers trying to defend him, Christ himself feigning calm resignation; pretending he knew this was coming all along, because to do otherwise would be an admission of his psychosis and/or deceit.

What I _hadn't _counted on was Judas' palpable grief.

Do not mistake my surprise for sympathy! If I felt _any _emotion for Judas, it was disgust. But I could not help but to feel somewhat intrigued, as well, in my own detached way.

I had always believed that Judas' feelings for Jesus were nothing more than jealous lust. I thought it was Judas' _possessiveness that_ I had exploited in order to persuade Judas to betray his current master.

But after seeing how Judas had kissed Jesus, the way they held each other, and the embarrassing vulnerability of Judas' tears, I was forced to confront another possibility.

Judas might actually be _in love _with Jesus.

I had thought Judas was a man after my own dead "heart." He loved money, and he loved getting off with other men. Nothing more.

I had always prided myself on being an expert judge of character; that was why I was so adept at exploiting others' vulnerabilities.

And, indeed, I had exploited Judas Iscariot. Yet, it seemed I did not know the man at all.

How could the man I once knew, the man I once _fucked, _be the same pathetic fool who now stood before me, glaring at me, with tears in his eyes?

I examined his face. I could not help myself; there was much to be learned here. The paradox of Judas Iscariot was far more interesting than the stupid "messiah" the guards and reporters were now tormenting with mockery and bright lights.

* * *

_**~Jesus~**_

My eyes ached, and I couldn't see, but it didn't bother me.

The torches and flashlights bothered me on a _physical_ level, of course. Despite what a few of my disciples may have believed, I really _was _a human being, a mortal man with eyes as sensitive as any other's. I knew I was mortal, because I was going to die for these people.

But I couldn't shake the feeling that _Judas_ was going to die, too.

What troubled me most, even more than the wasted potential, was my uncertainty at what would become of Judas' _soul, _if the almost-prophecy I saw was correct.

_I _was going to die, but I trusted my Father. I wasn't certain that _Judas _even _believed_ in Him. I _was _certain that Judas did not believe me to be the Son of God. And my Father had never revealed the fate of suicides to me.

What I _did _know, or what I _suspected, _was that Judas was going to die by his own hand. While my other followers certainly must hate Judas, now more than ever, I knew that none of them would raise a hand against him. But, to my distress, I knew that no one would _extend _a hand to him, either. Mary, Peter, and all the others would be too focused on _me. _It would be as if Judas had never been one of them.

And, I suppose, he never really _had. _

* * *

The guards flung me into a chair, and I felt the first bruises forming on my shoulder blades.

I had faced Caiaphas once before, on a much more joyous occasion. _Then, _the crowds had sung and supported me. Now, most stood silent, simply watching.

Caiaphas confronted me, gave me a chance to speak for myself. It was a mere formality, of course. I was sure the high priests made up their minds long ago. At any rate, my Father had already dictated the course to me.

I gave some vague reply, and the priest I had seen with Judas three years ago quickly responded. To my horror, though, he eventually addressed his former employee.

My stomach churned as Annas thanked Judas for turning me in, and invited him to stay and watch the physical torment I already knew awaited me.

This was not going to sit well on Judas' tormented spirit... I became even more convinced that Judas would soon do drastic harm to himself.

_I had to reach him. _If not now, it would be too late. I had to make him understand: God meant for me to die all along.

Judas needed to know that I didn't blame him, that none of this was his fault.

_I wanted Judas to live! _More than anyone else, he had _listened _to me, had thought about my teachings, had turned his life around for the sake of charity to the less fortunate.

As the guards dragged me out of the room, I managed to steal a moment to stand close to Judas. He looked at me quickly, shame in his eyes and tears on his cheeks. I gently placed my hand on his chest, caressed him as lovingly as I could.

"Judas, _please," _I whispered.

But he looked away, and the guards took me out of the room before I could say anything else.

* * *

_**~Judas~**_

_He touched me and said: "Please."_

Didn't he realize it was too late for me to take it all back? Didn't he realize how desperately I wished I could go back in time and undo all of this? Didn't he understand, even though this was all my doing, it was out of my hands now?

Didn't he see my regret?

* * *

_**~Annas~**_

Apparently, the tears were no long content to remain in Iscariot's eyes. Now, they flowed freely down his face. I saw him swallow, no longer able to look at Christ. In Judas' eyes, I saw a sort of grief I had never personally experienced, because I had never loved.

Indeed. I was certain of it now. Judas Iscariot was in lovewith Jesus Christ; it was not simply lust. And it was not a mere desire for ownership that had prompted Judas to betray Jesus. There was something else, something truly unfathomable to me.

And, not only would I never understand, but I did not _want _to.

I had official duties to attend to now. Judas was a stranger to me; he was no longer my concern.

* * *

_**~Pontius Pilate~**_

I was awakened by timid knocking upon my chamber door.

"What is it? This had better be important!"

My manservant opened the door and sputtered some pathetic apology before explaining why he was disrupting my already-troubled sleep.

"It's the Jewish priests, Sir. They have a prisoner for you."

"Why is some Jew any concern of mine?"

"I know, Sir; I'm very sorry!" He gasped. "They say this one is a serious threat to Rome, and so it's their duty to show him to you. Sir... It's Jesus the Christ."

Ah. So _that_ was it, then. I had heard about Jesus Christ, another fool who believed himself to be the Jewish messiah. But, apparently, this Jesus Christ had more followers than the idiots who had come before him. That bastard Annas had come to me on more than one occasion, warning me that Jesus was one to take seriously. I was not quick to be threatened, however.

But neither was Annas. There had to be some reason why Annas was so concerned about Jesus Christ.

Surely, then, there must be _something _to this Jesus Christ.

"Bring me my leather, slave."

* * *

_**~Mary Magdalene~**_

When Simon came to get me, I could scarcely believe it. I mean, how could it possibly be true? Jesus was the Son of God; how could it be possible that he had been arrested, that the authorities were going to potentially do something terrible to him?

Jesus on trial... Suddenly, all the prophecies, all the confidences he had whispered to me, began to make sense.

* * *

So, Judas really _did _betray him to the high priests.

And, now, to my disgust, I found Peter denying even _knowing _Jesus.

How could Jesus have known these things?

Clearly, it really _was _true... I had been correct in believing in Jesus' power.

Why was I so frightened, then?

* * *

_**~Pontius Pilate~**_

Upon entering the judgment hall, I was immediately struck by the ordinary citizens, angry and shouting. I could not help but notice how these people contrasted with the calm demeanor of the Jewish priests. There was a small group of people with fear upon their faces; I assumed these must be Jesus' followers.

I had to laugh at the idea that the slight, longhaired blonde before me was "King of the Jews." _Queen _of the Jews seemed more like it!

I asked him to identify himself, but his answer was childish and nonsensical. Perhaps he did not understand the fate that potentially stood before him.

At any rate, I was bored. Really, this Christ should not have been brought before me in the first place. As a Jew, Jesus was due to face _Herod, _not me!

* * *

_**~Mary Magdalene~**_

We were not permitted to attend Jesus' hearing before King Herod. But, whatever had happened, it happened quickly. King Herod sent Jesus back to Pilate within the course of two hours.

And, once more, I stood with the apostles. Clinging to Peter, I watched the guards, who worked for both Pilate and high priests, enter Jesus' cell for no reason other than brutality.

It wasn't supposed to be this way...

Surely, wasn't there another way for Jesus to reach the world?

Not like this. It wasn't fair...

* * *

_**~Judas~**_

I didn't have time to pray that Herod hadn't violated Jesus, the way that I had feared _I _might be violated, a few years back.

My God... My time as a financial advisor to the high priests seemed to be _ages _ago. How had I come so far?

Now, Jesus was back in his Roman cell. Looking to my right, I could see Mary Magdalene, Peter, Simon, and all the others whom Jesus still undoubtedly loved. Like me, they gazed down upon Jesus as the guards dragged him out. Like me, they cried as Jesus was beaten within an inch of his life, almost beyond all recognition.

I could see them touching one another. Comforting embraces... Like me, they were grieving. But, at least, they had each other.

I suppose I had _always_ been alone, even when I was Jesus' most beloved, his first handpicked apostle. I had never been like the others; I had always been the difficult one.

Because I'd always been the one who loved Jesus most.

And, yet, this was all my fault.

I would receive no comfort in the disciples' shared grief, because _I _was the one who had caused this suffering.

I didn't dare approach the others; I didn't dare tell them what I felt as I watched Jesus' suffering.

I did not deserve comfort; I did not deserve to commiserate with the ones Jesus still loved.

_Because this was all my fault. _

No longer able to watch the guards kicking the shit out of the man I loved, I turned away, running toward the temple.

It wasn't right, not any of it! I would confront them; I would make them understand.

I never wanted any of this!

* * *

The priests wouldn't listen to me... Annas didn't understand; he merely told me that I was right all along.

And Caiaphas? Caiaphas had no idea how correct he probably was... He praised me, told me that I would be remembered forever for what I had done.

And I was inclined to think that he was right; I couldn't help but laugh.

The priests tossed me outside; they already had what they wanted, and I was no longer necessary.

* * *

_Somebody had to take the blame! _

I couldn't be the only one...

Hadn't Jesus _told _me to go to the priests at supper, that they were waiting for me?

Jesus, God... Jesus, God...

I had to get rid of this money... I untied the little bag, poured the useless coins over my own head, listened to the tinny sound as they hit the floor.

_What had I done?_

* * *

How do you love the Son of God?

No. How do you love a man?

I thought I had known the answer to this for quite some time. But I was wrong.

I knew now that Jesus was going to die... My intentions of waiting for him, of embracing him when they released him from prison, were nothing more than childish fantasies. Jesus was already close to death; I would never see him again.

I wondered if he thought of me now, if he still felt any sort of affection for me, after what I had done.

I highly doubted it.

* * *

I forced myself to get up. The early morning sun shone red upon the earth.

Once again, I found myself praying to a God who didn't listen.

But, finally, I knew _why_ He didn't listen. He didn't listen, because this had been his plan all along.

But, _why? _

Or, at least, why _me? _Why me, when I loved Jesus _so much?_

I could never have killed Jesus... This was not _my _crime; it was _God's _crime. _God _wanted Jesus to die; _I _wanted Jesus to live.

With me...

The hands that put the noose around my neck were not my own; they were God's.

And, yet, I struck my own chest in a gesture of self-blame.

I could feel the sobs which shook my body, but I could not feel anything else as I stepped over the edge...

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Chapter Nine will be posted soon! _

**Author's Note Pt. 2: **_Don't worry; Judas may be dead, but he is not done! He will still be part of the final two chapters of this story! _


	9. Chapter 9: Three Quarters Dead

_**Chapter Nine: Three Quarters Dead.**_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Jesus Christ Superstar, _nor do I own the Bible. I am not _too_ concerned with historical inaccuracies, because I'm basing this story on a musical, and also for other reasons that will soon become quite obvious...

**Author's Note and Warning: **This story contains slash, suicide, murder, angst, sexual content, and profanity. _This story describes same-sex relationships between biblical persons! _I do not believe these people were _historically _gay; instead, I am basing this fanfiction on the 2000 film remake of _Jesus Christ Superstar _(because Jerome Pradon is made of awesome, and there is undeniable sexual tension in JCS 2000). Flames will be ignored, but any other comments are welcome and encouraged!

_**~Pontius Pilate~**_

There was something disconcerting about this "King of the Jews," so I was disappointed when Herod sent him back to me. I did not want to be responsible for this particular case.

The crowd, encouraged by Annas and Caiaphas, was hungry for blood. Their cries for execution actually seemed unwarranted to me... How could such a pale little man be a threat to anyone?

Nearly broken, the "King" managed to stand up in front of me.

Then, I knew why I found him so perplexing.

_Jesus Christ was the man from my nightmares. _

Indeed, it all made sense... Like the mysterious Galilean in my recurrent dream, the populace had loved Jesus, for a time. But, now, they were screaming for his blood. If things continued as my restless sleep predicted, the world would eventually mourn his death.

And _I _would go down in history as one of the vilest men to have ever lived: I would be the man who killed God's Son.

_No! _It was impossible. This pathetic creature before me could not _truly _be some sort of messiah. I didn't even believe in such religious nonsense.

It was obvious that the guards had already beaten the man nearly senseless, but I was never one to shy away from the whip. Perhaps seeing a bit of blood would be enough to satiate these hypocrites.

Thirty-nine seemed like a good number.

* * *

To be honest, I usually found a good flogging to be rather arousing. I usually brought a servant to my chamber afterwards for some carnal amusements. But, while the flogging of Jesus was as brutal as could be, it was _anything _but arousing.

Terrified, I went to him, cradled him in my arms. For once, I didn't care about ruining my fine leather uniform with a prisoner's blood.

I needed him to say something, _anything, _which would give me an excuse to release him. I could have him exiled, so the ravenous crowds would not have their way with him. _I could keep him safe, _but I needed him to give me justification. Otherwise, I would have to answer to Caesar.

Instead, Jesus babbled more nonsense, and touched my face in a gesture that seemed almost like pity.

_He _pitied _me? _

Again, the people cried for crucifixion.

I couldn't take it anymore! I would give them what they wanted. And I would make Jesus into the martyr whom he clearly _wanted_ to be.

But I would _not _take the blame for this!

_He was asking for it!_

* * *

_**~Jesus~**_

How did I get here? Where_ was _I, anyway?

A guard approached me, with what appeared to be a crown fashioned out of thorns. This was going to hurt, but so did everything else.

They dragged me to the cross, because I was too dizzy to walk. I heard them order me to carry it up the hill, but the sight of Judas in the distance distracted me.

I wasn't sure if he was alive or dead, but he was certainly disgusted.

His clothes were flashier than usual, and it really wasn't like him to mock my suffering this way. Perhaps I was hallucinating; I had lost a lot of blood. But was I really that far-gone?

And who were these _women, _dressed in scandalous outfits, who had appeared with him? None of it made any sense.

But, then, his voice was soft, and his words made all the sense in the world.

"Why? I was your friend..."

_Was? _

I wanted to touch him, but it seemed a shame to smear the blood from my hands onto his handsome face.

Every word Judas spoke filled me with shame, which only added to my agony. I no longer knew why I was doing this, no longer knew why I was allowing myself to be executed.

The lights were so bright, and the women's voices were loud and shrill...

And Judas was Judas _dancing?_

I felt the weight of the world upon the crucifix, which I desperately tried to carry, fearful of another flogging if I did not obey the guards.

But, no, it was only Judas. Judas, mocking me yet again, showing me odd texts, which only added to my confusion.

Surely, this could not be real. I must be awfully close to death, imagining such nonsense.

Judas had certainly had his cruel moments in life. But, in death, Judas was truly _heartless._ He only served to add to my self-doubt. I begged him to please make this end, to let me die, so I could be in possession of my faculties again. But he _laughed _at me.

I somehow managed to drag the cross up the hill, where I now saw Judas and his little choir of barely clothed women.

Judas looked at me with disgust, but there was something else in his eyes, too. For the first time during this odd vision, I actually saw _Judas Iscariot, _the man who had loved me, despite never fully understanding me. Yes, he was disgusted, but his disgust came from the deeply confused love I knew he felt in his heart.

I extended my arm, reaching for him, but he turned away...

_Why are you turning away, Judas?_

I wanted him _with _me. I wanted Judas by my side during this last chapter of my life. Instead, he walked away from me, surrounded by the women in red.

When I saw Judas welcoming the sensual gyrations of _women, _I knew this vision could not be real.

I wanted Judas, the _real _Judas.

I wanted him _with_ me, to know my pain.

_Where are you, Judas?_

_*_ * *

**Author's Note: **_Chapter Ten will be posted soon! Sadly, the next chapter is also the final chapter:-( But the three primary characters (Judas, Jesus, and Mary) will all play important roles!_


	10. Chapter 10: Thirsty

"_**A Sordid Kind of Thing," **__by PhantomDaae1981_

**Summary: **An angsty, multi-chapter prequel to and retelling of _Jesus Christ Superstar, _based on the 2000 film remake starring Jerome Pradon as Judas. Alternating viewpoints, but mainly Judas' POV. Jesus/Judas, Jesus/Mary, Judas/Annas. _Contains slash! _

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Jesus Christ Superstar, _nor do I own the Bible. I am not _too_ concerned with historical inaccuracies, because I'm basing this story on a musical, and also for other reasons that will soon become quite obvious...

**Warning: **This story contains slash, suicide, murder, angst, sexual content, and profanity. _This story describes same-sex relationships between biblical persons! _I do not believe these people were _historically _gay; instead, I am basing this fanfiction on the 2000 film remake of _Jesus Christ Superstar _(because Jerome Pradon is made of awesome, and there is undeniable sexual tension in JCS 2000).

_**Chapter Ten: Thirsty**_

_**~Jesus~**_

They were hammering nails into my hands, in order to secure me to the cross. I tried to scream out in pain, but I could not hear myself. I must have still been imagining things, because I would have sworn I heard _Judas' _voice crying out in pain, where _mine _should have been.

I prayed for the people who were killing me, but as they raised the cross to its proper position, it became a struggle to breathe.

Glancing down, I could see my closest followers. There was Peter, and all my other beloved apostles. And there was my sweet Mary.

And, somehow, I would have _sworn _I saw Judas, too. No longer mocking, as in my previous vision of him, his face was now wet with tears, and the pain in his eyes was very real. _So _real, in fact, that it was impossible for me to believe he wasn't really here with me.

No. I could not be imagining this. Judas was here, suffering with me.

He'd always been the only one who understood that I really _was _a human being, like the rest of them.

* * *

_**~Mary Magdalene~**_

I wept, as Jesus called for his mother... We _all _wept, and we hated how helpless we were to comfort him.

I heard Jesus ask God why He had forgotten him... He must be delirious in his pain; certainly, the Divine Father would not forget his Messianic Son.

* * *

_**~Jesus~**_

I was so thirsty... I wanted something to drink, _anything _to drink.

Mary and the apostles were at the foot of my cross, weeping for me. I felt guilty for leaving them behind, but I knew that they would bring light to the world. Mary, especially, had grown so strong since I had first met her. It pained me to leave her, but I trusted the strength of her spirit.

I knew it would all be over soon.

Kneeling, separate from the group, Judas sighed.

I still wanted to explain everything to him, to somehow make him understand. Maybe, now that I was dying, I would soon be able to do exactly that.

It meant so much to know that, even in death, Judas was sharing in my agony. It made me smile, secure in the knowledge that he would always be my soul mate.

* * *

_**~Mary Magdalene~**_

Jesus cried out, and there was a bright flash of light. His head fell to his chest, and I felt his soul quickly pass by me, before flying upward.

Oh, dearest Jesus... You truly were the Messiah...

* * *

_**~Simon Zealotes~**_

Things had not turned out exactly as I'd expected, let alone how I'd hoped. But I was Christ's apostle, and I would accept it for what it was.

Now, it was my place to comfort Mary Magdalene. Normally, this would have been Peter's job, but he was busy helping to remove Jesus from the cross.

I was ashamed to find myself ill equipped to deal with Mary's deep grief. Her cries, coming from someplace deep inside of her, startled me.

I tried to hold her, to comfort her, but I was truly out of my league. She pulled away and ran toward Christ's lifeless body.

Unsure of myself, I followed the other apostles as they walked away.

* * *

_**~Epilogue: Observer~**_

Mary Magdalene cradled the lifeless body of Jesus Christ in her arms. Despite his physical presence, so close to her, she gazed up at the sky; she could sense Jesus' soul, somewhere, up above. His body had become irrelevant.

Because, to Mary, Jesus had always been the messiah, whom she loved.

Judas Iscariot sat very near to Mary and the corpse of Jesus, though nobody knew he was there. Although he was dead, his eyes stung with tears as he gazed down at Jesus' lifeless body. Jesus was gone, and his absence was almost tangible. _Almost,_ but not quite.

Because, to Judas, Jesus had always been a mortal man, whom he loved.

**Author's Note: **Well, this is the end! I wish it wasn't; I am going to miss these characters, especially my dear Judas Iscariot! But I've said everything I wanted to say with this, based on what I saw/felt when watching the 2000 movie version of _Jesus Christ Superstar. _If, at some point, I feel the need to write something else inspired by JCS 2000, I definitely will do so. For now, though, this is it for these guys and me. If you liked this story, please leave a review!!! Also, please consider reading some of my other fanfiction. I definitely plan to keep writing fanfic for other fandoms, even though I am done with JCS for now. Thank you again, so much, for reading this!


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